


Desecration Drabbles and Shorts

by misch3fbunni3



Series: Icarus Rebirth [2]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Blood, Choking, Comfort, Consensual Kink, Depression, Drabble Collection, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Grievous Injury, Heavy Angst, Horror, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Loss, M/M, Original Character(s), Past grievous injury, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prescription Drugs, Psychological Horror, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Body Play, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sexual Violence, Tears
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:54:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25393435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misch3fbunni3/pseuds/misch3fbunni3
Summary: A collection of drabbles and shorts from The Desecration of Icarus timeline focusing on Wesker's and Chris's relationship that would not fit anywhere else in the chapters. Some will be happy, some sad, and some funny. And of course, a few filled with smut. Tags will change and chapters will have their own specific warnings in the notes.
Relationships: Albert Wesker/Original Character(s), Chris Redfield/Albert Wesker
Series: Icarus Rebirth [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1749898
Comments: 58
Kudos: 57





	1. The Salon

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have a few of these set aside that never fit within the chapters of The Desecration of Icarus, so here I will add additional pieces from within the timeline.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker has always had immaculate hair, that is until now. Chris wants to do something nice for the blonde and so he sets up a surprise appointment. This scene will be sometime after chapter 7 and before moving to DC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet and fluffy, and a tiny bit sad. Wesker gets a haircut.

Since their therapy sessions had reduced significantly, and Chris was now training the small number of recruits that started passing through the campus on medical leave, the less he was able to interact with Wesker outside of their arrangement.

It saddened him not spending as much time with Wesker, but not being as physically active as he was generally used to being, was driving him up the wall. Torn between the two, he made efforts to go out of his way to spend extra time with the blonde, going to lunch or taking short trips if Wesker needed anything in particular.

Chris had started to notice that Wesker was increasingly getting frustrated with his hair and was constantly running his hands through the now long locks to get the strands out of his face. However, Wesker never complained, but Chris noticed, always remembering the blonde having immaculately kept hair to keep it in his preferred slick-backed style. How his hair looked now was uncanny and made the older man look out of place.

So, Chris started asking around some of the campus regulars for who was the best hairstylist in the area. And he always received the same answer, Shelly, at the Exchange, right on the campus. Relieved she was so close, it would not tear Wesker away from his work for very long. To surprise the blonde, Chris called to make an appointment for the much-needed TLC and was shocked at how long it was of a wait even to get an appointment, at least two weeks. She must be good.

He hoped Wesker could hold out for that much longer before he ended up shaving it all off. The thought of Wesker with a buzzcut was just strange.

Tricking the blonde when the day came, Chris told Wesker he wanted to take him to a new shop he had discovered that he thought the other would enjoy browsing. When they showed up at the Exchange barber, Wesker looked over at Chris in confusion, not exactly sure what was going on. “Chris, why are we at the Exchange?”

Leaning down to stare sheepishly at his feet, Chris admitted, “I’ve noticed how irritated your hair has been for you and figured maybe you could use a trim.”

Looking up and smiling, Chris could not contain his excitement, “I asked around, and I’ve been told that Shelly is the best, hands down. No one else’s name was even mentioned when I asked.”

Wesker’s eyes actually lit up, glowing slightly behind the sunglasses, a genuine smile gracing his lips, “I’m surprised you even noticed, you have been so busy with training we haven’t had much time to spend together much less you perceive how shaggy I’ve become.”

Chris gave him a mock-shocked expression, “I am more observant then you give me credit for Albert!” Making their way up to the building, walking side by side. Chris walking slower than usual so Wesker could keep up with the use of his cane, favoring his left more so due to the brutal cold that day.

“I know you always bite your lip when you think you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t.” Wesker scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Or that you love Pink Floyd and Jefferson Airplane and all those old school classic rock bands.” Wesker gave him sideways eyes, “I did have my experimental years. I was always getting into so much trouble with Spenser and the like, but damn I had so much fun doing it.” Looking down, he laughed heartily.

Leaning in very close and grabbing Wesker’s upper bicep, Chris whispered in the blonde’s ear, “And I know you hold your breath sometimes when you cum to make it more intense.” Wesker blushed fiercely and wrenched himself away from the brunette, hissing loudly, “SSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

Chris chuckled darkly with a shit-eating grin on his face as they finally stepped up towards the door to the salon as it was a separate part of the Exchange. Flustered Wesker glanced around slightly, “I can’t believe you!”

Shrugging, Chris continued his dark teasing expression, “Don’t lie, I know you do it on purpose.” And bringing the conversation back into the present, “Do you want me to go in with you? The appointment is under your name.”

Wesker huffed, still trying to control his embarrassment, “No, I think I’ll be fine.” And with that, he stepped into the small salon, a tiny bell announcing his presence.

Chris smiled after him. The windows were slightly foggy inside from it being so brutally cold, and he could barely make out Wesker’s tall frame as he talked to the receptionist. A short heavyset older woman suddenly came up alongside him. Assuming this must be Shelly, Chris turned to make his way into the Exchange for a few things and to bide his time.

Taking a good 20 minutes or so, he returned back to the lot and crossed to an empty parking spot to light up a smoke. He knew it was a nasty habit, but after smoking for so many years, he indulged occasionally.

Chris was slightly pacing around the lot, enjoying his first cigarette in a while when he heard the small tingle from the salon door, and he turned to see if it was Wesker finished with his appointment.

It was, and Chris froze, his lips slackening enough for a breeze to knock his mostly smoked cigarette out of his mouth to roll along the asphalt. Captivated, Chris asked himself how he became so lucky to have this incredibly handsome man in his life.

Wesker looked immaculate, the haircut was very similar to how he had kept it before, but it was a bit shorter on the sides and slightly longer on the top and not as heavily slicked down, but enough for the breeze not to dislodge the style.

Wesker’s ever-present sunglasses covered his eyes, but the satisfied smirk on his face said it all. As he made his way closer to the brunette who just stood staring dumbly, his sultry voice rolled off his tongue, “I am deeply in love with that woman. Thank you for being so generous to treat me to such an incredible gift.”

Wesker finally was close enough to reach for the brunette and wrapped an arm around a thick shoulder, pulling the bulky body closer and graced Chris with a searing deep passionate kiss, surprising the brunette with the public display of affection, the blonde obviously uncaring if anyone saw.

Pulling back slightly, Wesker whispered against the other’s lips, “Thank you, truly, no one has ever made such a kind gesture such as this, and I feel a thousand times better like a huge weight lifted off my chest.” Seeing such a joyous expression on Wesker’s face made Chris’s heart skip a beat.

Not being able to see Wesker’s eyes, Chris hugged the older man to hide his own sudden distraught expression in the dark peacoat, not able to suppress the fact how upset he was at learning that this was Wesker’s first kind-hearted gesture from another person observing his intricacies. Holding the other man a moment longer to collect himself and replace his sadness with a dark smirk.

Leaning back, Chris admired the newly cut hair, “Hmm, I think I love her too. Just long enough to get a good grip on it.” Which earned him a playful smack on his arm.

Wesker couldn’t help but laugh, “Shall we? I do have some more research to assist some of the newer personnel with, though I do enjoy our moments like these together more. Breaks up the monotony of the day.”

Chris bowed slightly and presented his arm, “We shall. Will you be ok walking back?”

Taking said arm, though the cold was affecting the tender injury more than he wanted to admit, Wesker wanted to spend as much time as he could with Chris, even if it was just to walk across the campus back to the labs. “Yes. You can tell me what antics you have been playing with your trainees. My coworkers are dreadfully boring, and I could use a good laugh.”

Chris snickered, and they started making their way back towards the small laboratory facility, “Oh, you know me so well, Albert, I’ve been downright evil.”

The two made the short way back, chuckling darkly at the evil schemes Chris had been showering on his poor trainees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come.


	2. The Bet Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris could not get that black leather apron out of his head. Set after Chris and Wesker settle somewhat in DC and before Wesker completes his research.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought of this today and I just had to write it and share it because it is hilarious.

Not quite certain how they got onto the topic, probably Wesker bitching at Chris about leaving his mess around, but it ended with Chris betting Wesker that he could keep his shit clean if the stakes were high enough.

Finally agreeing, content, full, and lounging on the incredibly comfortable couch they had decided upon, Wesker bet that Chris could not keep his pig lifestyle clean for a month.

Chris loudly accepted the non-mess challenge, as he was in the kitchen cleaning up after drawing the short straw.

“So only if the stakes are high enough, hmmm?” Wesker drawled from his prone position. They shared the comfortable moment relaxing after one of their rare meals together, and Wesker was lazing about digesting before figuring what to do with the rest of their evening.

Smiling and finally laughing, arms thrown haphazardly over his eyes, “I bet that if you lose, you have to do the dishes for a month.”

Not thinking about the bet as being too serious, and being incredibly exhausted, the blonde debated if he should just go to sleep and be damned with staying up. “I would purposefully go out of my way to cook just so there were dishes for you to do. And the meals would be so incredible, you couldn’t help but partake in eating them, and causing even more dishes to pile up.”

Wesker could not see the huge smirk on Chris’s face since he had his eyes covered, but he surely heard the devious tone in the brunette’s voice. “Are you sure that is what you want as your prize?”

Wesker could hear the younger man snickering in the kitchen. Feeling confident that Chris would surely lose, “I’m certain. Why, what are your stakes?”

The response made Wesker jolt upright so fast his head almost swam, jostling his full stomach slightly, and his face tightening but was nonetheless amused. The enthusiasm in Chris’s voice was unmistakable, “If I win, you will cook us dinner, naked, except in a black leather apron of my choosing.”

Gapping, the blonde retorted, “Are you serious, Chris? You’re still thinking about that from the day of the briefing?!? That was weeks ago!!”

Grinning madly across the room, Chris couldn’t help himself, “Almost every day, Albert. I don’t know what it is, I was teasing you at first to make you feel better, but then the thought of it just grew on me.” The heat in the younger man’s eyes, even across the room, was unmistakable.

Sighing, but still feeling very confident, Wesker relented, “Alright, I agree to your terms. But you will fail. At least I will keep you well-fed for a month.” Chris has always been a slob as long as Wesker has known the other man, and it was the blonde’s biggest pet peeve regarding the brunette, and he made it known whenever his hidden basket filled up, and Chris found himself covered in trash, sometimes the same trash, at random moments.

Chris didn’t say anything, just continued straightening up the last bit of the kitchen, grinning slyly.

.....

A week passed, and everything was immaculate. Wesker was actually impressed.

.....

Then the next week rolled by, and the same thing, Chris had finally contained his pigsty. Wesker found it incredibly helpful not to have to pick up after the little things.

.....

It was the third week, and again, the same, not a piece of trash or dirty clothes in sight. Wesker was getting slightly nervous. The brunette was bound to slip up at some point. He had too.

.....

It was the final day of the month-long bet. Somehow managing to have some rare overlapping time together, Wesker was in all intents and purposes sweating bullets. Frustrated and annoyed, Wesker chastised the situation he had somehow gotten himself into, ‘How could this happen?! He has always been so damn messy as long as I’ve known him!’

Nervous, Wesker had been in his room most of the morning, biding his time, not wanting to dare venture out. But he was working a short shift that afternoon, and he eventually made his way out to make a quick sandwich before having to stare at the consoles long enough to make his eyes bleed.

Exiting his room and heading towards the kitchen, his eyes snapped to something that was indeed out of place, and his face lit up like a Christmas tree. Haphazardly tossed on the couch was a shopping sack with what looked like some trash inside.

Making a v-line for it, he snatched the bag up, not even looking at what was in it, Wesker stormed into the younger man’s room. “AH HAAA!! YOU LOSE!!” And he tossed the sack at Chris, who was stretched out on his bed playing with his phone.

Quickly getting over his shock of the loud bombardment, his face calmed, and his eyes became increasingly dark, and his lips upturned only slightly.

Lifting the sack, he held it out before Wesker, “Quite the contrary, my dear Albert.”

The delight that had over swept the blonde quickly faded as he dropped his eyes back to the sack.

Snatching it from Chris’s hand, he opened the bag and stared at it for a moment. Slowly, he reached in and pulled out a small, very nicely wrapped box. In his haste, Wesker never looked to see what was in the sack. He just assumed it was trash the brunette had left lying around.

The box had his name on it in Chris’s horrid handwriting. Paling slightly, he dropped the sack, but held onto the small box and slowly ripped the wrapping paper off. It was a small box not unlike one might receive clothing in during Christmas. Balancing it in one hand, Wesker pulled the lid off with the other.

Wesker’s entire world froze for a moment. And then it erupted into a white-hot supernova as he tossed the box and its contents at Chris, who could only shield himself at the last second. Not that anything from the box could remotely hurt him, but still, it was an automatic reaction of having something thrown at him.

Wesker was livid, absolutely seething, and he flared his nostrils and bared his teeth aggressively as his eyes glowed furiously bright, “I fucking hate you, Christopher Redfield! You planned this all along! You fucking scheming bastard!”

Unfolding from his protective ball, Chris could not help but laugh, watching Wesker almost stumble his way back to his own room, grabbing his shoes, coat, cane, and keys, he made for the front door, not even taking a moment to put said shoes on. Chris quickly called out before the front door was slammed incredibly loud, rattling the hinges and knocking something off the kitchen counter to tinker across the tile floor. “Don’t be a sour puss, you agreed to this!”

Placing the upended contents back in its box, he set it aside on his nightstand. It would be in his best interest to let Wesker cool off a bit. Laying back with his arms behind his head, a shit-eating grin splitting his face ear to ear, “Chris one, Albert zero!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They do indeed love their games. Part 2 will be a bit messy; however, will not follow this directly, as I have some other shorts I really want to do first, including a second Salon chapter. This will break up some of the genres and topics, and whatnot.


	3. The Bet Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker must fulfill the bet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied. I kept running how to write this in my head and it was becoming incredibly distracting, especially when I’m trying to work. Some fluff and then pure smut.
> 
> Warnings: humiliation, rough sex, rough kissing, consensual choking, choking kink, rough fingering, blood

Chris was starting to worry when the day crept into the evening, and the later and later it became, and Wesker still had not come home. Chris knew he was supposed to have a short day as they had dinner plans for that evening, and the time came and went and still no Albert.

Sighing, Chris finally made his way over to the labs, walking and enjoying the crisp spring air. He would help the blonde cool off if he hadn’t yet and bring him home. They had decided when they first moved in together and knew that they would be incredibly busy that neither would ever sleep in their offices. And they would never go to bed angry at each other.

If Wesker had fallen asleep at his desk, Chris would be incredibly disappointed, but still, could not wholly blame the other man if he did. Chris did trick him, and he had not seen Wesker that mad in a very long time.

Finally, making his way to the blonde’s office, he peaked slightly through the glass window inset of the door. Wesker was sitting at his monitor, head in his hands bowed forward, and he had grasped his hair in tight fists, obviously in frustration. They had been in DC a few weeks already, and Wesker, despite saying he was so close to completing his formula, couldn’t seem to get over the last needed hump to finish it completely.

Tapping lightly on the glass, Chris watched the blonde jerk from his trance and then slowly release his hair and turn his exhausted visage towards Chris. Evident in his irritation, he relented and got up and limped heavily, even with his cane, to the door to let Chris in, “What are you—?!” But he wasn’t able to finish as Chris barged in and grabbed him by his shoulders, “Are you hurt? What happened?!”

Taken aback, Wesker jerked away from the prying fingers, waving a hand like he was shooing a fly and scrunched up his face in pained irritation as he wrenched himself away from Chris to limp back to his chair. Even with the cane, Chris could tell something had happened. “It’s nothin—” Chris was mad now and stood rigid, staring intently at the blonde, “It’s not nothing! What happened?!”

Leaning forward and unconsciously rubbing his right thigh, still irritated but reluctant to keep such things secret, “I ran here.”

Chris was livid now, and rightfully so, with all the intensive work getting the blonde into one piece, and he does something stupid like run.

“I was angry, alright?! I still am!” And Wesker shot up from his seat only to sink back down with a hiss. Chris’s anger somewhat diffused by the state Wesker was in, but still miffed at the blonde, Chris sighed, shuffling his feet, “You agreed.”

Wesker sighed, he was exhausted, he had consumed himself with work to distract him from his anger, having very few outlets now, work being his main goto. Leaning forward again, his head in his hands, “I know. I know. I doubted your ability to actually achieve something you so obviously want bad enough to jump through hoops for.” Grinning, Wesker still could not believe Chris won their little bet. “Though I should not be surprised,” the blonde mumbled, rubbing his face, “You did get me to lose control back then.”

Sighing heavily, his grin fading. “You’re going to have to get one of the cars. I am not walking back.” Without any hesitation, Chris blurted, “I’ll carry you. It’s late enough, and no one should be walking around this late to see.”

Snaking his eyes up, Wesker remembered the last time Chris carried him, haughtily replying, “I’d rather not.” Now it was Chris’s turn to grin, “What if it was a piggyback ride, hmm? Would that be acceptable? I remember you doing that for me several times.”

Wesker just rolled his eyes and bringing them back to land on Chris’s now-excited face. He was extremely exhausted, and Chris did come to check on him, and he really just wanted to go home and finish the evening on a quiet note before having a full day tomorrow.

Not having any energy to argue, Wesker huffed, “Fine.”

.....

To anyone else, it would probably be a strange sight to see the brunette piggyback carrying the tall blonde, but for them, it was just another day. Halfway back to their residence, Chris brought up the dreaded topic, “So when do you want to uphold the bet?”

Groaning, Wesker had nowhere to run, and even if he did, he would not get very far at all. He probably would end up collapsing, and Chris would leave him to crawl back unless he asked for mercy, “You are relentless!”

Wesker grit his teeth and buried his face in the back of Chris’s neck, “Fine! Pick a day when we are both off. That way, I can slowly burn in my misery and die in humiliation and not have others asking why I look like a damn lobster.”

Chuckling madly, “Oh, that would likely be for the best.” Wesker just sighed, the warmth radiating from the younger man soothing. “Sometimes, you irritate me to no end, Dearheart. I will never, ever trust your bets again.”

*****

The agreed-upon day Wesker would fulfill his end of the bet finally came and the small box that Chris had handed Wesker the day he won, magically showed back up on his dresser. As planned, they both had the day off, though Wesker was very reluctant to enjoy the extra time off with the younger man.

Not able to stall any longer, Wesker stepped out of his room clad in only the presented leather apron, face bright red and fuming, irritated beyond belief, he glared at Chris who had been making up the kitchen table despite there being nothing prepared yet. Chris was dressed down more than usual in a comfortable looking t-shirt and sweats, and when Chris looked up, he froze. The look he gave Wesker could only be described as dripping arousal, which made Wesker turn even redder, tilting his head forward submissively but still keeping intense eye contact, his pale skin making the embarrassment more obvious.

Not even remotely wanting to placate the other man, Wesker finally ignored him after a minute of silence and dutifully made his way to the kitchen, where he started preparing the agreed-upon meal. He had decided on chicken alfredo, homemade, of course, as it was one of his favorites. Something about the freshness of it that he could not quite place made the activity more relaxing despite having his bare ass hanging out.

Chris, still not having said a thing, just stared at the naked backside of the blonde poking out of the back of the simplistic, but still a well-crafted leather apron. Chris had not even resumed setting out dishes. Just took in the scene of Wesker complying with the bet’s agreement. Finally, breaking the silence, Wesker was slightly unnerved at the feeling of Chris’s eyes on his every move, like the brunette was stalking him as prey, “Are you just going to stare at me all evening?”

Laughing darkly, “I might, amongst other things.” And Wesker whipped his head around to catch a glimpse of Chris staring at his rear intently, a lip grasped tightly in his teeth, and then those eyes were on his. But Wesker was far from happy in this predicament. “You and your damn fantasies…” Huffing, Wesker resumed his prepping of their meal. Wesker was trying to keep things simplistic, the pre-homemade noodles almost done already, and the sauce was coming along nicely, the rich aroma wafting up. The chicken was braising in a separate pan.

Concentrating on the meal, Wesker jumped when he felt a warm hand run down his backside and over the curve of his ass. Stepping back away and wrenching said arm away from him violently, Wesker was fuming, “Goddamnit! I’m cooking! I could get burned!”

Wesker was pissed, but Chris certainly had ulterior motives as he leaned into Wesker’s personal space and actually backed him up against the counter next to the stove. Unfortunately, Wesker was not in a playful mood, and with all his transgressions put his hands up against the muscular chest of the brunette and pushed slightly. His first warning.

Chris, of course, ignored the warning, pushing the blonde further against the counter bodily, next came the verbal warning, “I’m serious Christopher, back off. I’m doing as you asked, now let me get back to cooking before it burns.” Wesker’s nostrils flared, and he could feel the brunette’s heavy erection pressing against his thigh through the thick material of the apron.

Leaning forward, Chris challenged the blonde by brushed his mouth over the bare shoulder and collarbone, earning a slight gasp and subsequent growl from the blonde, “Back off, Redfield!” Looking up with sultry eyes, Chris still didn’t say anything as he ran his teeth along the blonde’s shoulder, who was backed entirely up tightly into the counter, the brunette menacingly in his personal space, but relented and backed off knowing that whenever his last name was used Wesker was livid, “Fine.”

Chris stepped back and towards the kitchen table again, and turned to lean up against the said table, his arousal evident through the soft material of his sweatpants. Wesker, bright red as a cherry and fuming, turned back towards the smoking pans on the stove. “Fuck!”

Trying to salvage his sauce that had started to boil over, Wesker tottered around the kitchen, all the while, dark eyes trailed his every move, especially the slight jiggle of his buttocks if he moved just right. Chris was loving every second of this and soaked it all up, causing his erection to twitch.

He specifically had picked this apron because it had two purposes, the blonde fucking looked hot in black leather, regardless of what it was. And second, he wanted to conduct an experiment that he believed the blonde would enjoy and ask for more. He watched Wesker wipe at his forehead, blonde hairs falling slightly out of place and sticking the pale brow.

Chris sat biding his time for the opportune moment to pounce, his erection had gone slightly, trying to ignore it somewhat as he just observed his lover make his way around the kitchen.

It should not be long now. He could tell Wesker was finishing up the last bits of the meal. Overall, it was a very silent affair. Finally, the blonde turned towards him, his cheeks still flushed pink, “Alright, everything is finished, can I please take this ridiculous thing off?!”

Chris shook his head, “… No… not yet…” And in the flash of an eye, he was across the small space and kissing the blonde forcefully, whose back was precariously close to the hot stove. Knowing there was heat at his back, Wesker jerked forward against Chris, wrenching his body away from the possibility of being burned, not wanting to add any more scars to his back. Pushing forward and fisting his hands in the brunette’s t-shirt, shocked at the dangerous manhandling he was receiving, “Have you lost your mind?! You want me to get burned ass?”

Chris had slid his hands to grab the ample ass and press their crotches together, smirking at the half-hard erection the blonde had been hiding under the apron. “Don’t lie! You’ve enjoyed this!”

Making an outraged face, the pink flush reddening, Wesker put a hand against Chris’s face to push him away forcefully, “Never, this is an absolute embarrassment, a nightmare!” And from there, the grappling started and ended with Wesker being slammed bodily face-first against the kitchen table, dishes rattling loudly as he snarled and tried to buck off the bulky man who was grinding his renewed erection into his ass.

Leaning heavily against the blonde, Chris wrapped his free hand around under the apron to grab Wesker’s cock, which was fully hard and leaking precum despite the blonde’s intense anger. “Lier! You’re really enjoying this, aren't you?!” Wesker grunted and tried to dislodge the brunette again by bucking backward to no avail. If anything, it made Chris more aroused. “So, you want it then?”

Frustrated beyond compare and possibly the most embarrassed he had been in his entire adult life, Wesker stayed silent, not trusting his voice as he now ground back against the hard cock pressed up against him. Chris’s ministrations stopped, but the thick cock still pressed up firmly against the bare ass, and Wesker let rip from his lips the only thing he could think of at that moment in his anger, “Fuck you!”

Chris laughed darkly as he lifted the blonde’s right leg to prop it up on the table to create better access, and spitting on one free hand, he rubbed his saliva up against the puckered hole of the shaking body beneath him, either from arousal or anger he couldn’t tell. Having every intention of this being the end goal of this bet, Chris took out the small bottle of lube he had hidden in one of the pockets of his sweat pants, which he had now pulled down enough to let his erection spring free. Chris angled his erection so that it slid alongside Wesker’s balls and his answering erection as he started to finger the blonde’s hole with ample amounts of lube.

Wesker groaned despite his annoyance and sucked in a breath when Chris pushed one finger in to brush up against his prostate, stroking it sensually. Looking back over his shoulder, panting slightly and eyes bright, Wesker seethed, “I can’t believe you! Everything just for this?! We can fuck on all the furniture any day!” And Chris returned the look darkly, “No, not entirely. I still have a surprise up my sleeve that I think you’ll like.”

Wrapping one arm around the blonde’s torso, he pulled the blonde up off the table and against his chest, angled just slightly to the side so Chris could see Wesker’s face better, “Do you trust me?” Wesker’s brows furrowed in confusion, taking a moment to search Chris’s face, he saw no ill intent, and despite his continued embarrassment, he acquiesced the question. Catching the blonde’s shoulder with his mouth again, Chris pressed a second finger up into the blonde who arched back slightly against Chris, panting slightly heavier.

Slowly, Chris rubbed his hand up Wesker’s torso, over the leather apron to grab the neckpiece, demanding a verbal response from the blonde by asking again, “Do you trust me, Albert?” Closing his eyes to slits, still somewhat confused, Wesker hissed, “Yesss.”

Chris pulled the neck piece to the side tightly, causing the leather to tighten around Wesker’s neck and as he did this, Chris shoved a third finger into the blonde and started finger fucking him, rocking the body with his motions to jerk the table and rattle the dishes even more. Wesker’s reaction was priceless, panic, surprise, intense arousal, and rapture rolled off the blonde’s face in rapid phases, and Chris could tell he was greatly enjoying the sensation. Chris released the leather, allowing the blonde to gulp in air.

Gasping, an intense whine escaped the blonde, “Holy shit! Fuck!!” Despite his earlier anger and irritation at Chris, Wesker certainly enjoyed the new, albite short, choking experience. Furrowing his brows and baring his teeth angrily at Chris, he hissed over his shoulder, “Do it again!” Chris quickly claimed the gasping mouth, biting the blonde’s lower lip hard, as he removed his fingers from the now well-prepared hole.

Chris helped the blonde drop his leg back down from the table and roughly turned him around and deftly lifted Wesker entirely up onto the table, who leaned back to balance his weight on his hands, his ass precariously close to the edge. At the same time, he tried to encircle his legs high up around Chris’s waist, pulling the younger man closer to him. The pulsing cock that had been pressed against his ass was now pushing forward to breech him, and wet fingers were digging into pale cheeks to keep the blonde from sliding back too far.

There was nothing sweet or precious about this joining. It was anger and biting teeth and bruising fingers. And once Chris was angled against Wesker just right, he snapped his hips forward harshly, entering the blonde without much warning as he pulled the tense body against him and started a harsh pace, shaking the table enough to dislodge the dishes, sending them crashing to the floor. Luckily, the table was incredibly sturdy, picked out just so due to past furniture pieces having not lived through their previous sexcapades.

Neither Wesker nor Chris took notice of the loud crashing, both completely caught up in the moment and only having eyes for each other. At some point, the tie of the back of the apron had come undone, and upon noticing it, Chris pulled the thick material to the side and behind Wesker’s back to clasp it against the blonde’s skin to tighten the neckpiece once again against Wesker’s throat. Not as harshly as his earlier manipulation of the material but enough to make the blonde’s breaths to become shallow, who, at the same time, was trying to match Chris’s harsh rhythm.

Enjoying the newfound kink, Wesker drew one leg back to perch better on the table and leaning to the same side as the retracted leg, reached one hand down to grab his weeping cock to start to stroke himself in time to the harsh pounding Chris was unleashing on him.

Suddenly, Chris snaked his arm under Wesker’s leg that was still wrapped around his waist, pushing the leg up into the crook of his elbow and dragging the blonde towards the edge to deepen his thrusts more, slightly pulling the bunched up apron down causing the material to tighten more against the blonde’s neck.

Wesker tilted his head back to follow the increased pressure of the neckpiece, slitting his eyes, his mouth dropped open, straining to suck in air but not completely choking, he was in a perfect state of euphoria, and he could not help the sounds that started erupting from his mouth the closer he came to his release.

Chris was loving the vision of breaking the blonde down to such a pure state of ecstasy, naked, covered in sweat, his hair dislodged, panting and whining as he jerked himself off, the pale body jerking from being pounded by his cock. Chris burned the image in his mind to never forget this moment of pure bliss between them.

Chris could tell Wesker was about to come, the other man’s breath’s becoming increasingly ragged and uneven even against the strain of the leather material, his lower lip quivering and body shaking from the intensity of being pummeled so harshly, he was right there on the cusp, and Chris demanded, in a dark, husky tone, “Are you going to cum for me?” Wesker, so very close to the edge, could not trust himself to speak but quickly nodded his head furiously in acknowledgment, his mouth gaped open, and his tongue pressed against his bottom teeth, completely unhinged.

An evil grin crept over Chris’s face as his grip on the blonde’s ass, and hip tightened bruisingly against the pale flesh, causing the apron to be pulled even tighter and effectively cutting off the blonde’s air completely, stopping any further noise from escaping as Wesker’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, trying to suck in precious air.

Wesker’s eyes bulged and started to roll up, pupils blown with only a small glowing ring of red surrounding the black, his body arching and face reddened as he came, full-body spasms violently causing him to buck up against the still pounding brunette, the older man still jerking his cock harshly through his orgasm. 

Several more moments passed and Wesker’s brain started to fire off the beginnings of panic, and then there was precious air, the neck of the apron loosened, and Wesker sucked in a deep heaving breath that he exhaled as a loud cry as he leaned up to wrap a fist tightly in the hair at the nape of Chris’s neck.

Pulling himself closer to the sweating brunette who was so very close to his own climax Wesker claimed Chris’s mouth with such ferocious passion their teeth clacked. Wesker lavished the brunette with such an intensity as to completely dominate the other’s mouth and biting the brunette harshly enough to break the skin of Chris’s lip, smearing blood across their battling mouths.

Groaning loudly, Chris pulled Wesker forcefully towards him one last time, fingers digging into the tender pale flesh and buried himself as deep into the other man as he could as his body jerked with the intensity of his orgasm, not even realizing that Wesker had broken the skin of his lip and was making a bloody mess of their faces.

Slowly coming down from his climax after staying entirely engulfed by the blonde’s tightness, Chris let go of the blonde’s ass to place shaking hands against the table and turning away slightly from the mouth still attacking his to try and catch his own breath. Chris slowly hunched over to press his face into the blonde’s shoulder, still buried in the blonde’s quivering hole and pulsing from the incredible intensity of his release.

Sighing into the sweat-covered shoulder, Chris ran his mouth over the skin sensually, murmuring, “Was the new experience worth all the embarrassment Albert?” Chuckling as Wesker stiffened at the question, Chris pressed further, “You certainly enjoyed it, if the mess everywhere has something to say about it…” And there was indeed a big mess, bodily fluids across their stomachs and on the kitchen table, their faces covered in Chris’s blood, broken dishes, and upended chairs, the table halfway across the dining area having been precariously slid across the room from Chris’s exuberant thrusting.

And suddenly, Chris was pushed back forcefully, stumbling backward, his cock sliding out of the blonde with an obscene wet sound, and before he could recover, he heard the sound of ripping material. Finally finding his balance on shaky legs, Chris looked up to see Wesker’s ethereal physique sitting at the edge of the table in all his naked post-orgasmic glory, a complete mess and covered in a sheen of sweat, glaring intently at Chris with obvious irritation, and ripping the apron apart with seething intensity, face and chest still flushed a deep pink from his intense climax.

The offending apron, now in several smaller pieces, was thrown up in the air to flutter back down into the mess of sweat, cum, and broken dishes. Smirking through the still-evident irritation, Wesker responded playfully, “Perhaps,” as he tossed the still intact neckpiece at Chris’s chest, who diligently caught it and returned the smirk with a Cheshire grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Wesker is still strong enough to rip leather.


	4. The Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker takes care of Chris post-mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings-extreme angst, hurt/comfort, PTSD, blood, tears, loss
> 
> There is a very high chance this will make you tear-up or possibly even cry, so forewarned. I teared up just writing this.
> 
> This takes place after the Bet and before chapter 10, which does not exist yet but will soonish, mid- to late next week, hopefully.

Wesker was in the middle of briefing his team of how his injection would go when he felt a vibration against his thigh. Not many people contacted him via cell, and about 99% of the messages were from Chris. This being no different. Excusing himself, he pulled the smartphone out of his pocket and tapped the fingerprint recognition. There was a single text message from Chris, ‘I need you now.’

Looking at the message over and over, Wesker became slightly concerned. Chris had been on mission more than half the week, and usually, if he was in the mood for one of their sexcapades, he would have called, talking dirty in a sultry voice until Wesker relented and went home to appease the horny brunette.

Sighing and rubbing his face, Wesker was weary from finalizing everything for his formula. He was days away from having everything complete.

Another message vibrated his hand, ‘Please, I really need you right now, please come home, please.’

Now Wesker knew something was wrong. Replying, he wanted to let Chris know he was heading back, ‘On my way Dearheart.’ Canceling the rest of the meeting, he released everyone for the rest of the day. They could pick back up where they left off tomorrow. At this point, what was one more day? He had waited this long, and Chris really needed him.

As Wesker left the facility for his vehicle, he called the brunette now that he was out of earshot from any hidden ears. Some of their talks had become heated in the past, and the last thing Wesker wanted was for his staff to know about his fantastic sex life. That is if they didn’t know already.

The line rang and rang and continued to ring until it went to voicemail. Getting into his vehicle, he tried calling again to the same dead silence. Now he was apprehensive. The drive was incredibly short, but Wesker’s heart was racing, and he found himself speeding down the 25 MPH road to their residence.

Not really caring that he parked like an asshole, Wesker shot out of the vehicle, and as fast as he could with his hip acting up, he raced up to their second-floor apartment, noticing small splotches of smeared blood.

The next thing he noticed was the bloody handprint on the stark white of the front door, and he froze in terror, “No! Oh God no!”

Without a second thought, he burst into the residence and almost tripped over body armor still covered with a chest rack, partially shredded material with dark dried and fresh blood. Jerking his head around the shared space in a panic, he cried out shrilly, “Chris! Chris!”

It took him a moment to listen, and finally, he heard Chris’s shower running. Dropping his cane, Wesker broke into a stumbling sprint to the other man’s room and into the private bathroom. Stopping dead in his tracks in the doorway, he froze up, seeing the brunette crouched over in the shower on his knees, bruised and bloodied fists gripping the short hair at the back of the other’s head pressed against the tiled shower wall.

A long thin gash wrapping from Chris’s right shoulder all the way down to his right hip still leaking blood. Whatever had made such a wound to sever through the thick material of the body armor must have been incredibly powerful, and Wesker’s heart beat faster, knowing that injury could have taken Chris’s life if it were any deeper. Scratches lined what he could see of the taunt arms, and it took him a moment to hear the quiet weeping of the younger man over the rush of the steaming hot water.

Without thinking, Wesker kicked off his shoes and rushed into the scalding hot spray, clothes and all, and as best he could he wrapped himself around the violently shaking brunette and holding him as tightly as he could, shushing quietly and rocking the younger man in hopes to quell the now harsh sobs that had erupted once he entered the mess of a bathroom.

Despite having his reservations, Wesker needed to ask one question, “Were you bitten?” Chris hunched tighter in on himself, but he shook his head no. Sighing in relief, Wesker just held him tighter, lightly kissing the back of Chris’s shoulders, “I’m here for you… I’m here.”

They stayed that way for a very long time, Wesker slowly rocking the younger man, until the hot water went to warm, then cool, and finally freezing. That was when Wesker reached up and turned the water off, but still, he kept his tight hold on Chris, waiting for the younger man to say what had obviously gone so very wrong on the mission.

Somewhat calm but still shaking, Chris finally uncurled from his ball, Wesker released his embrace but kept his hands soothingly on the other’s back, avoiding the long gash that he had been staring intently at. Taking in a deep breath, and in a pained voice, Chris finally whispered, “We lost someone. He... he died in my arms…” And his breath catching, he covered his face in his hands as his shoulders started to shake from renewed sobs.

Wesker was incredibly concerned, he scooted around so Chris was facing him, and he grabbed the others shoulder in a tight grip, “It wasn’t Piers was it?!” Chris dropped his hands to grab Wesker’s shoulders, his fingers almost digging into the blonde’s skin, and he stared at Wesker with deep sadness, “No… no, Piers is fine, not a scratch on him.” Despite the news, it did not dissipate the despair that had claimed the usually upbeat brunette.

Both Wesker and Chris were experienced in bioterrorism, and at times, could take such loss quickly, and other times, more so for Chris, as he was more experience in fighting against, rather than with, any loss was devastating to the point of incapacitation, shutting mental systems down to the point where an extended holiday would be mandatory.

The BSAA did not play around when soldiers experienced such hardships and made the best efforts to provide them with any and all resources to get through any post-traumatic stress symptoms that manifest after such taxing missions. Some recovered to continue participating in missions, some left the battlefield to become trainers, and some retired altogether.

Chris was reasonably resilient, but this was only the second mission since their arrival in DC, and no one could ever be ready for such loss despite knowing what the fight against bioterrorism entailed. Wesker ran his hands up to wrap an arm around Chris’s shoulders and the other to his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace. Letting Chris cry into his soaked shirt. Wesker rubbed soothing circles into the brunette’s shoulder, which was now covered in goosebumps.

Leaning his head against the other’s, Wesker spoke quietly into Chris’s ear, “Let me clean you up, get you into some warm clothes, and then we can rest.” Wesker was shivering as well, still clade in his work clothes, minus shoes, and he did not want the brunette or himself to get sick sitting in the cold remnants of the shower. Reluctantly, Chris nodded and leaned back, releasing Wesker so they could help each other stand.

Wesker grabbed one of the haphazardly folded towels in the small cubby in Chris’s bathroom and handed it to the brunette, who dutifully started to wipe down and wrap the towel around his hips. As Chris was doing this, Wesker stripped off his soaked clothes, letting them drop to the shower floor and grabbed a towel for himself to dry off. Chris shuffled out of the bathroom to sit on his bed, leaning forward to hang his head.

Wesker observed Chris as he dried off, and suddenly the brunette looked older, exhausted from the toll of his mission apparent in the ragged face. Without the joyous air that usually surrounded the younger man, years were added onto the brunette, battle-weary and fatigued. Wesker sighed and felt slightly guilty. He was the one to bring Chris into the battlefield of bioterrorism, though who knows how Chris’s life would have ended up even just being present in Raccoon City.

Not wanting to go down that road, Wesker hobbled across the apartment to his room to grab dry clothing, nothing fancy as the rest of the day would be filled with cuddles, sleep, and whatever food Chris ended up feeling hungry for. Wesker would cook or order out anything, as long as it got the other man to eat, which, Wesker was somewhat expecting Chris to have no appetite at all, but he was hopeful. The blonde would even go out of his way to get those nasty Vienna sausages that were Chris’s guilty pleasure.

Heading back into the shared area he went to the closet where they kept their medkit and propping it on one of the kitchen chairs, he started looking for a specific type of bandage to cover the long gash. It being too thin and seemingly shallow, stitching it would not do much but irritate the skin, and there was no more worry about getting scars as they were both covered in them. Wesker ended up deciding the butterfly bandages would suffice with clear adhesive dressing over top.

Peaking into Chris’s room, he could still see him perched at the edge of his bed, the towel still wrapped around his hips, head hanging. Sighing, Wesker made his way back to Chris’s side, and without a word, he reached down to tangle his fingers with one of Chris's hands and gently pulled to get the brunette to rise up and follow him back to the kitchen where there was more light. Still silent, he maneuvered the brunette to sit backward on one of the chairs, and he diligently set himself cleaning the gash and starting the meticulous detail of applying the butterfly bandages.

It was a silent affair, Wesker attentively dressing the wound and Chris just leaning on his arms that were draped across the back of the chair, the precise movement of the long fingers increasingly soothing despite the sharp stabs of pain on occasion. Once finished with the butterfly bandages, Wesker measured out a single piece of the clear adhesive dressing and covered the entire gash to keep everything in place.

Circling the chair, Wesker grasped one wrist and slowly pulled the arm towards him to get a gage of the smaller scratches that lined the brunette’s arm. Quickly cleaning them, he did the same to the other arm and positioned them to drape straight to get a look at Chris’s knuckles, which were bruised and scraped from God knows what, but if Wesker could guess these were self-inflicted in a blinding rage.

Catching Chris’s gaze with his own, Wesker softly ran his thumbs over the shaking knuckles. Chris’s eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed, and glistening with unshed tears, as he looked back at Wesker’s questioning gaze, his lips quivering. There was an unspoken pleading not to say a thing, shifting his head a small fraction, to not ask how Chris’s knuckles and hands became so damaged, when they both knew that Chris always wore gloves. Sighing lightly, Wesker went about cleaning and wrapping the brunette’s hands, who dropped his gaze to watch Wesker’s fingers expertly dress the wounds.

Finished, Wesker softly grabbed a wrist to motion the brunette to stand, who rose up slowly, backing up off the chair and following after Wesker to the blonde’s room, away from the bloody mess in the foyer and the other’s bathroom. Pulling the brunette along, Wesker silently directed Chris to lay down, still in his bath towel, who pushed aside the comforter on the made bed. Wesker quickly following after him, spooning around the brunette’s body and pulling the brunette close against his chest and covering them both with the comforter.

Lightly kissing the back of Chris’s neck, he kept his lips there and spoke softly, “I’m here. And I will stay here for as long as you need me to be.” Wesker could feel Chris start to shake, the barely suppressed emotion Chris had been holding back while Wesker dressed his wounds, finally breaking through.

“My work can wait. You are the most important thing in my world right now.” Chris’s body now violently shook, an agonizing wail escaping his shuddering body. Chris gripped onto Wesker’s hands and intertwined their fingers to grip them tightly as if his life depended on it, and in a sense, it did.

No more words were spoken, and Wesker lay, pressed up against Chris tightly, holding the brunette until he passed out from exhaustion and the overpowering emotion of devastating loss. After listening to Chris’s even breaths and the feel of the brunette’s steady heartbeat, Wesker too slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chris is always taking care of Wesker, so now Wesker has his chance to be the caretaker.


	5. The Linen Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker has only been awake for a day and the orderlies need to switch the sheets and change bandages. It does not go over well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after Wesker wakes up in Chapter 4. Hurt/comfort.

Chris had stepped out to run a few short errands only to return to Wesker’s room bustling with activity, the blonde shouting in a strained voice could be heard in the hallway, “Get Out!! Don’t… Don’t touch me! Let go!”

Seeing so many gawking people in the hallway, Chris rushed forward, pushing people out of his way to cross the threshold of Wesker room only to find a mess of items on the floor and two male orderlies trying to restrain a struggling Wesker to inject a sedative, who was in full panic mode.

“STOP!”

Chris’s stern voice caused the whole room to freeze, except Wesker, who continued to struggle, breaths laced with quiet panicked sounds as he weakly fought against the hands still gripping him.

Chris menacingly stepped forward, “Let him go, now.” The command laced with an unspoken threat at the two heavyset men still grasping the blonde’s arms.

Letting go of Wesker and stepping out of the way as Chris now put himself between Wesker and the staff, “What the fuck is going on? Why are you all in here? Why are you trying to restrain him after he fucking just woke up after being unconscious for two weeks?!”

Most of the staff shrank back, and some even quickly made their exit. One of the men who had been restraining Wesker spoke up, “We were told to switch out linens and change bandages.”

Chris was exasperated, “By restraining him?! Do any of you realize how much trauma this man has gone through?! And you try to restrain him?! Get out! All of you, now, I want a new team immediately! None of you are ever to set foot in this room or near this man again.” No one hesitated or said a thing, and they all shuffled out of the room.

Chris quickly-paced after them and slammed the door shut, causing Wesker to flinched as he tried to press himself further into the bed, violently shaking and staring back at the fuming brunette in pain-stricken anger-laced panic, “Where were you?!”

Chris paced near the door, running a hand through his hair, glancing at the blonde and quickly avoiding the accusing gaze that he had indeed left the blonde unattended, even for a short moment, he wasn’t gone more than 20 minutes at most. Making his way back to Wesker’s side, “I’m sorry, they should have never been in here without me present. Fuck… I’m so sorry. Did they hurt you?”

Wesker looked down, slowly calming, but his breaths hitched as he noticed the red marks on his forearms where he was manhandled. Bringing a hand down but hesitating just shy of touching as the pale arms were pulled back protectively against the blonde’s chest, Chris sighed, guilt pinching his face. “This should never have happened. You are not a prisoner here. You are a patient.” Wesker shifted uncomfortably at the label, sweeping his eyes across his body where the blankets had been upheaved from his struggle, the catheter line laying limply against the bed.

Chris continued to observe the older man who had become transfixed at the gown covering him, “I swear I’m going to get them all fired. They have no place here, assaulting patients.” But the threat went unheard as Wesker reached down with his right hand to grasp the thin material, bunching the simple geometric design with shaking fingers and slowly pulled the material away from where he knew his pelvis and hip had been violently damaged during the assault.

Wesker’s breaths started to increase and became ragged as more pale skin was exposed, as he completely uncovered the thick bandage over where the anti-BOW round had entered his body. Chris stood still next to the bed as he watched Wesker observe and run a hand over the bandage, his brows furrowed as the pain from his struggling started to emerge, and he bit his lip as he muffled a small sound as he tried to roll himself to see where the most damage occurred.

This is where Chris stopped him, pressing a warm hand against the pale shaking fingers that had started to creep around the other’s side, effectively stopping them and causing Wesker to bring glazed eyes up, still slightly panicked and filled with questioning uncertainty, whispering, “Is it really that bad?”

Chris nodded slightly, and Wesker’s face crumpled as he turned away, pulling his hand away from underneath Chris’s to grip the metal bar on the opposite side of the bed, needing to ground himself as he fought off a whirlwind swirl of emotions. Without another word, Chris pulled the gown back over the bandages and pulled the covers back over to tuck them around where Wesker had curled himself away from the brunette, still gripping the bar and trembling. His other arm loosely circling his head to grip the haphazard blonde hairs. Chris felt helpless as he stared at the older man curled up on his side. He could see the mouth twisted downward in a tight grimace, eyes covered with an arm. He sighed as he hung his head and sat in his usual chair, diligently watching over the shaking form.

.....

It was about an hour later when there was a small knock on the door. Poking their head in was an older woman with a sweet face, smiling slightly, “We’re here to change the linens and check the dressings, it is a good time?” Chris looked over at Wesker, who had been dozing in and out, currently, eyes closed, but Chris knew he wasn’t completely asleep. Looking back, the brunette gave a tight smile, “Maybe another hour if that’s possible?”

Still smiling, the woman nodded, “However long you need, but it should be done today. We were supposed to do it yesterday but with him just waking up, you know. I’ll check back later.” And without waiting for a retort, she stepped back out and closed the door quietly.

“I like her.” It was a quiet statement, and Chris was a bit surprised but nodded, despite Wesker not being able to see him. “I agree. Will you be ok if I’m here?” The room was silent a moment, and he watched the shoulders rise and fall as Wesker sighed in reluctance, “I suppose. It's not like I have much choice.”

.....

Returning later, they learned the woman’s name was Rose, and this crew was all female in the hopes Wesker would be more comfortable and less weary of the potential of being restrained, which did actually relax the older man. The bedside manner of the ladies being an incredibly different experience from the earlier fiasco.

After the bedding was changed and he found himself in a clean gown, it was time to change the dressings. Quickly check the catheter line and inquiring if there was any irritation, Wesker responded in the negative that everything felt fine, blushing slightly, despite knowing they were seasoned nurses and had probably seen anything and everything.

Chris had to smile at that, but his expression became serious as they did have to change the dressings. They started with the one on the left side of his chest, which they had just let the gown drop, not tying it from the earlier change.

They were surprised Wesker had some control over his left arm though not by much. The wound was healing nicely along with the graft. Wesker was breathing slightly heavier from all the movement, still being in quite a lot of pain from earlier. He watched the hands work to quickly change the dressing, trying not to poke him too much and resituating the gown to be tied at his neck and shoulders.

Now the hard part, changing the dressing on his lower back. Rolling him onto his left side, Chris ended up assisting to hold his upper body up from having to put too much pressure on the chest wound. One arm under Wesker’s neck and the other around his back and holding him in an awkward embrace as the rest of his body was on his side on the bed, his backside fully exposed to the chilly air and the nurses.

But Wesker didn’t care who was staring at his ass at this point. He was in excruciating pain as the coverings were removed and the wounds assessed. His grip on Chris was like a death hold, and the brunette knew he would have deep bruises later but knew Wesker needed to hold onto something. Chris felt the body flinch several times as the nurses tried to do their job as fast as they could, but Wesker was shaking and made a slight noise, gripping even tighter onto Chris’s arms and pressing his head against the muscular chest.

“All done. I’m sorry, love, I know it hurts.” A gentle hand brought the gown and covers back over the exposed skin. Grabbing Chris’s attention, who still held the older man, “If you need anything, please don’t hesitate, we will be his team from now on, so please anything to make the healing process more bearable. I’ll stop in later.”

Chris murmured his thanks the best he could through the grip Wesker still had on him and leaning down to Wesker’s ear, he whispered, “It’s over, you can release your death grip.”

Hesitant and very slowly, Wesker released his grip on the brunette as Chris unfurled his own hold around the blonde’s torso, which was still shaking. Looking down, Chris huffed in slight irritation, “Really?” Wesker had bitten his lip, trying not to make any sounds and had ended up causing his lip to bleed right onto Chris’s shirt.

Wesker slumped against the bed with a huff, only looking slightly guilty, “Sorry.”

Sighing and grabbed some tissues from a box on the nightstand, he handed them to Wesker, who dabbed at his mouth, wiping away the mess, “I have to say, that was a much better experience than earlier.”

Chris sat, inspecting where Wesker had a death grip on him, and there was, indeed, red handprints that will eventually blossom into dark purple bruising. But that was what Chris was there for, to be an anchor for Wesker as he recovered, with the goal of hopefully bringing him on with the BSAA.

“At least you know what to expect next time. Hopefully, you will be more healed by then and not try to twist my arm off.” Chris could not help but chuckle as he rubbed the marks.

Wesker sunk into his bed more, furrowing his brows and sulking, “I said I was sorry.”

Chris waved a hand, “I’m teasing. I know this isn’t easy. But things will get better. I promise.”

Now irritated, Wesker pressed his head against the new clean pillows, enjoying the crispness, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Chris just continued to chuckle, “It will be better than things are now. It will just be a lot of work. For you, anyway.”

Grumbling, the blonde retorted, “Don’t remind me. Now shut up, I’m tired.”

Staring at the slightly shaking body, Chris sighed again, “Rest as long as you need, we have all the time in the world.”

But the words fell on deaf ears as Wesker had already fallen asleep, though his expression still weary from the intense moments of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chris being the badass nursemaid, protecting his charge. Wesker is a cranky bastard, but justifiably so.


	6. Nightmare I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker has a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying out something a little different. Takes place sometime between Desecration Chapters 4 and 6.
> 
> Warning: psychological horror

Wesker was in a deep sleep, his brain quiet for once but was jolted awake by something, like a thick cover was suddenly draped over him, suffocating him. He had been on his side facing Chris, who was peacefully asleep in his usual chair, breaths even, silently watching over him.

Wesker wasn’t sure what had roused him, but he felt apprehensive regardless. Slowly, pushing himself up and rubbing the grogginess that lingered from his eyes, he glanced at the small digital clock on the nightstand. 307AM. Glancing out the windows, it was pitch black outside, which made him furrow his brows as there were nighttime lights usually filtered through the open blinds and curtains.

Trying not to wake Chris, he shifted slowly to place his bare feet on the floor. Pain still lingered in every movement, but he was thankful to at least be mobile once again. After several moments, and with great effort, he rose to his feet, frame shaking on still unsure legs.

Stifling a grunt, he shuffled towards the windows, leaning on whatever he could brace himself against that wasn’t Chris’s resting place. Leaning against the wall heavily, he pulled the blinds aside, but only blackness greeted him. Still weary, he craned his neck trying to glimpse at least a shape of something he could recognize from his normal view, but he couldn’t see anything.

The uncertain feeling that something was incredibly wrong increased his anxiety tenfold. Continuing his inspection to no success, he started to hear a low hum and dripping as if it was far away. Dropping his hold on the blinds, he turned, glancing around uneasily to stare at the bathroom door that was slightly ajar, he could not help the shiver of building distress that ran up his spine.

Searching the rest of the room for a potential cause of the noise, he froze, his frame locking up as he pressed further against the wall. Chris was gone. The chair vacated, and the brunette’s blanket folded over one arm.

Swallowing thickly, he glanced around for the brunette, but he was nowhere in the small room. He hadn’t even heard the other man get up, much less leave.

Wesker hissed, “Chris?”

But only the low hum and dripping filled the silence. Breaths slightly increased, Wesker shuffled himself towards the bathroom, reaching his arms out for things to provide support as he felt the strain of even the smallest movements already tax his healing body.

The closer he came towards the bathroom, the hum started to turn into quiet sobs, continuous and unending, the dripping accompanying the eerie voice that sounded oh so familiar but couldn't quite place.

As Wesker came closer to the bathroom, he pressed one hand against the door to push it open further as he latched onto the doorframe for support. Frustrated that his strength was already failing him, he leaned forward, but it was pitch black in the small room like there was nothing on the other side, yet the dripping and sobs continued. Apprehensively he called out, “Chris?”

Stepping through the doorway, one hand still latched firmly on the frame; he blindly searched for the light switch. Internally cursing that it always seemed like every time he used the restroom, the light switch was harder and harder to find. Finally, after having to stretch along the tile wall having had to leave the safety of the doorway, Wesker found the switch and flicked it on.

Wesker stared wide-eyed as he was no longer in his bathroom at the BSAA facility. No. He was somewhere else, and he recognized it immediately as one of Umbrella’s confinement laboratories, bare, cold, and unfeeling. He flung he head back towards the doorway the should have been only a few steps to his left, but all he saw was dreary white tile.

Barely suppressing the rising panic and choked noise of distress, Wesker turned back towards the dank room, the fluorescent lights buzzing with clinical precision. The incessant crying and dripping were getting louder, closer.

There was an open door on the opposite side of the room, and without thinking, he stumbled towards it. There was nothing in the bare room to balance his straining muscles against, and he wasn’t about to waste time escaping this place by using the perimeter walls for support. Not entirely sure what was going on as he approached what he hoped was an exit, Wesker latched onto the frame to give his shaking legs a break. Oddly there was no door, but there were remnants of one like it had been ripped off the hinges by something with incredible strength.

Wesker’s breaths quickened from the examination of the missing door and of his jerky movements of exhausted limping across the room. The exertion caused sweat to trickle down his spine and temples. Wesker's anxiety increased with a feeling of foreboding that something terrible was about to occur. 

Panting from the exertion and pain, his body trembled. Wesker tried to slow his breathing to listen to what might be outside, the crying had become louder, the dripping steadier, and heavy clicks now added to the macabre noises that were echoing now inside the room. Managing to quiet his breaths, Wesker slowly tilted his head out of the doorway to try and see what could be making such noises and if he could escape from this place.

Looking to the left, all he could see was a long stretch of darkness with occasional small lights intermittently spaced between other doorways, as if someone had strategically placed nightlights along the hallway. Some of the other rooms along the corridor had intact doors, others the same as the room he now occupied, some doors were gone completely, or smashed bits of wood hanging dismally from their hinges. Slowly, he brought his head down towards the opposite side and froze in horror.

This hallway mirrored the opposite side, except there was something bulky with long thick legs approaching closer. Wesker’s eyes bulged as the creature stepped past one of the dim lights, and he could see that it was massive whatever it was, with what looked like hooved feet, maybe a deer or moose or perhaps something else entirely with a long craning neck.

Wesker couldn’t tell what it used to be as shaggy dark hair hung between large patches of flesh where the skin had sloughed off, glistening in each light it passed. It had a surprisingly smooth gait despite the bulk of it, like that of a camel, and from what Wesker could see of the head that was held high just barely out of reach of the dim lights, he could see more glistening likely of exposed muscle. Suddenly, the head dropped lower and large round red disks flashed as they snapped in his direction, the crying louder and the liquid, whatever it was, increased to a splatter.

Wesker wrenched himself back into the room and flattened his back against the wall to the right of the doorway, a small cry escaping him as he felt his heart pound against his ribcage. The tempo of the clicking did not increase, but it crept ever closer to the doorway along with that humming cry. Wesker slid along the wall, as far from the doorway as he could while stifling small sounds of panic, his body jerked when it came in contact with the adjacent wall, effectively stopping him as he collapsed, already having overexerted his body entirely and no longer able to keep himself upright.

Not able to be seen from the doorway any longer, Wesker curled into himself, trying to make himself as small as possible, his hands shook as he tried to cover his mouth for fear it would hear his hyperventilating gasps or the grinding of his teeth to keep them from chattering. Wesker could feel hot liquid slide down his cheeks, unable to control the fear of possibly being discovered by this thing and what it would do to him if it did. His strength was practically drained now, having exhausted the last of it crossing the room.

There would be no way for him to defend himself against whatever this creature happened to be, never having seen anything like it before in any of the BOW logs. Scanning the room quickly, there was nothing he could use as an improvised weapon either, the room dismally bare.

The clicking stopped right outside the doorway now, and Wesker was in a full-blown panic. The crying was now wailing, and the octave of it crept ever higher, and Wesker could not help but press his hands over his ears to try and drown the sound of it out. It reverberated around inside his head, causing a throbbing headache to manifest instantaneously. Wesker had felt fear before, but never like this, and as much as he wanted to get a grip on himself, he couldn’t, the rational side of his brain shrinking as he gaped intently at the doorway, waiting for it to enter.

It felt like hours, the constant wailing unending when suddenly the clicking resumed past the doorway and in the opposite direction, the sounds drowning out the further along it went. Wesker did not dare move, only panicked hyperventilating breaths from his heaving chest now the only sound he could hear. Wesker stayed that way for a very long time, not daring to move.

As more time passed and no indication the creature would return, Wesker allowed himself a moment's reprieve to slightly unfurl as his body had stiffened painfully from being in such a compact position for so long. Somewhat back in control of his terrified mind, Wesker knew he had to get out of there. Making his way up on violently trembling legs, Wesker stood, side pressed heavily against the tiles, he could smell the mold and distant disinfectant as if the room had not been cleaned in a very long time. It was the same disinfectant that was used to wash the labs in Umbrella, and his anxiety skyrocketed instantly from the unexpected trigger, the small gain in controlling his breaths lost as he started to wheeze.

Despite the cascading emotions, Wesker knew he needed to escape and slowly edged back towards the doorway, and though his hip caused him immeasurable pain, his brain exploded with the desire to fight or flight. He was about three-quarters of the way towards his exit when a sudden gush of liquid hit the floor right outside the doorway, splattering loudly, and Wesker gaped in horror as dark red crept over the white tiles from the opening, spreading out and barring his only exit.

The wailing was right outside again like it had never left, and Wesker cried out, gripping his ears at the violent sound, almost buckling. Staring intently at the dark liquid creeping ever closer, he almost missed the creature’s entry; it was so agonizingly slow. Frozen in horror, it started with a slow sideways movement of one incredibly ornate antler, and then he could see part of its face as it crept past the doorframe. Unable to move, Wesker could tell it was in a substantial state of decomposition, the bones of its long snout visible amongst the mottled putrid skin and muscle. Large jagged teeth lined the slightly parted jaws, emitting that awful wailing now resonating throughout the entire room, putrid milky pus steadily dripping from its maw to mix with the crimson.

Jolted from his paralysis, Wesker took a trembling step back. Then another. A small sound escaped him as his body protested further movements. The creature stared at him with those large round glowing red disks, almost like that of the gas mask eyeholes of his attackers. The jaws creaked open wider, teeth scraping against each other as the bottom jaw lowered, unhinged entirely. The wailing suddenly stopped. Neither moved for several minutes when suddenly something wet touched Wesker’s bare foot. Risking a glance down, he saw that the thick red liquid swirling with that milky pus from the creature’s mouth had finally made its way to him.

Shooting his eyes back towards the creature, it was right in front of him now, hissing loudly, the neck seemingly long enough to where it stretched all the way from the doorway to reach where he stood. It loomed over him with a full set of antlers, and he could see past those red disks into his own dead pale eyes from a lifetime past. Wesker could not help the horrified scream that was ripped from him as he fumbled for purchase, ultimately losing his balance when his right hip gave out. Clenching his eyes shut as he waited for the impact against the tile, it never came.

Instead, his surroundings roared around him, and wind whistled past his face. Wesker was freefalling through the dark.

Wesker squinted his eyes open as intense winds battered against him. He was falling through the sky, and before he could truly grasp what was happening, he hit the ground with a bone-shattering landing. The first thing he noticed immediately was that he couldn’t breathe. The second was that there was raging heat all around him. Third, his system was burning from a PG67A/W overdose.

Sweeping his eyes across what he could see from where he landed, ragged black rocks surrounded him. After several moments of dry heaving trying to catch his breath in the sweltering heat, Wesker was finally able to expand his lungs after the ruthless impact, and he cried out sharply as he sucked in the heavily charged air into his lungs. Sweat broke out instantly and poured down his skin as he tried to assess how horribly he had been injured.

To his surprise, despite feeling like everything in his body had shattered entirely, he still had control of his limbs, albeit, with jerky movements, as he was able to get his arms under him and push himself up to observe his surroundings better.

Wesker felt his body burning as heat seeped up between fissures in the jagged rocks, which sliced into his flesh like it was butter even through the thick gloves he wore. Grunting loudly with effort, Wesker tried to make his way upright and was shocked to see he was in the same clothes during his time in Kijuju, having lost his long coat likely in the freefall, his shirt barely intact. 

Stumbling to his feet finally, he swayed heavily, hunched forward, as the pain that had plagued his hip had spread to every part of his body now. Shifting his gaze around, he realized he was in the midst of a volcano. Staggering, he circled, trying to orient himself, the roaring of the molten core astonishingly loud and incredibly close based on the level of heat blazing all around him.

Trying to gauge the best way to retreat downward, he saw movement close by, and he had to squint to see what it was. Over the roaring of the volcano, he could hear the now familiar wailing, like a switch was flicked on. The fear that had receded returned full force, and he turned to try and make his escape away from the pursuing creature. But only after a few steps, his feet slid to a halt, least he found himself tumbling down the inner rim into the flowing lava below.

Jerking backward towards the creature, it was already upon him, the massive shape towering above him as humanoid appendages shot forward from the rotting torso to grab the sides of his face, holding his head tightly in its death grip, and effectively immobilizing him, leaving no chance for escape. The skin of the creature felt surprisingly cold and slimy against his fevered sweat-slicked skin, and Wesker dared not move, his form completely petrified.

The beastly face with his former self’s dead eyes held him in place, and as he regained some sense Wesker started to struggle, loud panic sounds escaped him as the decaying flesh seemed to melt against his face where its hold became painful, the slight pressure now excruciating as if it was trying to collapse his head in on itself. Pleading, Wesker screaming at his captor, “STOP!! PLEASE!! LET ME GO!!”

Wesker swore the creature was smirking at his futile attempts to appease it as it increased the pressure on his face, causing his head to pound in agony. Wesker couldn’t help the tears that streamed over his soot-covered cheeks or the sniveling whimpers that seethed through his clenched teeth from the aching pressure.

Suddenly, Wesker started to feel his feet skid as the creature pushed him towards the rim of the volcano, his boot scraping uselessly against the ground to try and stop his imminent descent. Still, his strength was nothing compared to the monstrosity before him. Feeling empty air beneath him now, the creature held Wesker past the edge, his feet dangling. Wesker's hands grasped at the appendages slowly crushing his head, his neck straining to hold up his entire body weight as his hands fumbled, not able to get a good grip on the creature to try and anchor his body up or to swing his legs for any purchase as the decomposed flesh slipped through his fingers. Outright keening now, Wesker could feel the searing heat below him, his clothes melting against his skin.

In his efforts to release himself from the confines of the beast, he did not see the jagged mouth open once more, and upon hearing a voice that had long since perished by his own hand, he stopped struggling. “ _Ironic, isn’t it? For one who has the right to be a God! To face his own mortality…_ ” Tears poured down Wesker’s face, the shock causing his body to become rigid as he stared at the seemingly grinning creature as it mocked him for his arrogance and expounding upon the fact that betrayal had been his own undoing and the utter failure of his mission to save the world from humanity’s brutality.

“ _Ironic, isn’t it, Albert?_ ”

The pressure that was just short of crushing his skull was released without warning, and he was falling. Again. Eyes bulging in realization there was nothing beneath his feet and only empty air for his flailing hands to grasp onto, Wesker stared up at the creature in disbelief, but it was gone in the blink of an eye, only darkness above him, cruel laughter thundering across the basin.

Wesker had almost forgotten that he was in the middle of a volcano at hearing that appalling voice, except he was falling straight into the middle of it as everything became even hotter the further he descended. The first touch of the liquified magma lit his skin on fire, and he was ablaze, thrashing violently as his flesh seemingly melted away increasingly with each passing second. Wesker was screaming, surprised he even had the breath and capacity to make any noises at all as the air was so thick and heavy it felt like his lungs were drowning in flames.

Wesker was sinking like something had gripped his feet under the lava and was pulling his further down into the agony, and it burned, his cells being torn apart. Wesker didn’t remember clenching his eyes shut, but when he opened them, he could see something above him just out of reach. Someone was calling his name, but between his own screams and the roar of the rush of the lava around him, he could barely make out the voice. Wesker squinted his eyes, trying to look closer at the object that suddenly appeared above him.

It was a hand, outstretched towards him from a ledge just shy of where he had fallen, and without hesitation, he reached for it with all his might. Wesker heard his name again, closer his time, but the hand was still just out of reach, he stretched as far as he could, his melted fingertips barely grazing the fingers stretching down towards him. Wesker was not sure how much more agony he could take. His body was healing just as fast as he was being burned, but he knew his regenerative abilities had its limits.

He could very well die here.

With every effort he had, Wesker made his way agonizingly slow towards the wall of the rim. He gripped the jagged rocks to try and anchor himself upwards towards the outstretched hand. Blood seeped from where he touched the rocks, which were as sharp as razor blades, almost causing him to lose his grip and fall backward. The voice calling his name was becoming clearer, a face appearing above the outstretched hands. The desperation in the expression of the face apparent as the grasping hands deftly tried to reach him.

“ALBERT!”

Finally, he was able to touch the other’s fingers briefly, he just needed one more boost upwards. Wesker recognized the face now. Chris had come to save him.

“ **ALBERT**!! **WAKE UP**!! **ALBERT**!!”

Eyes open wide, Wesker launched himself upward with a strength he believed long gone as he was able to grasp one of the hands above him.

It was like a light switch being turned off.

Wesker could hear screams echoing along with the sounds of rushing water. Suddenly he was freezing, and the sudden change in temperature caught his lungs, and the screams stopped abruptly. Wesker could feel freezing water surround him and someone calling his name.

Violently trembling from the cold, Wesker was hyperventilating as he caught his breath, and his vision returned, finding himself sprawled at the bottom of his shower cradled in Chris’s arms, who stared down at him in absolute terror, equally soaked and shaking slightly. Wesker felt his body temperature plummet suddenly, and if he didn’t know any better, he believed himself in the midst of a seizure.

Wesker managed to rasp quietly at the brunette, holding him like he was going to slip away forever, “Chris…”

Only to be surrounded by a crushing hug, pressed tightly against Chris’s chest, a hand clenching in his hair to press his face into the muscled neck despite having such difficulties breathing. Moaning, Wesker pushed back weakly to get some room to breathe.

“Fuck, Albert! I was so scared! You were having a nightmare. You were burning up, and you wouldn’t wake up.”

Wesker was completely out of it, and his eyes rolled, trying to take everything in as he violent spasmed, barely hearing anything Chris said, and only comprehending one word. Wesker choked out against the brunette's neck, “Nightmare…?”

Wesker was still not able to grasp what had happened, that everything he just experienced wasn't real, as he lay sprawled bonelessly in the other’s arms, staring numbly as he lifted shaking hands that bled sluggishly, fully clothed in sweats and a t-shirt. Looking up at Chris’s relief filled eyes, Wesker's teeth chattered as he muttered, “Cold...”

Chris only just realizing that whatever had caused Wesker’s body temperature to skyrocket had broken with the cold shower and that the blonde was shivering violently against his muscular bulk.

Quickly reaching up to turn the water to warm, Wesker wearily watched the hand leave him, feeling frighteningly exposed. Not daring to say anything about it, Wesker sighed when the arm returned to embrace him once more, slowly rocking him.

.....

Shower over, and clean, warm, and wrapped in new clothes and a soft blanket, Wesker sat in Chris’s usual chair, waiting patiently to have his linens changed. When Chris helped him over to the chair at first, Wesker was incredibly confused but realized why as he saw the blood splatter and what looked to be thoroughly drenched sweat-soaked sheets. With much embarrassment, Wesker silently hoped he did not lose control of his bladder during the course of the nightmare.

As he watched the drenched bedding be removed, he could not help the panic that started to rise again at the amount of sweat his body had produced, causing violent shudders to wrack his body as he remembered the feeling of the burning fire that had almost consumed him, imagined or not.

Wesker’s vitals and blood pressure were checked over by one of the night nurses, which of course were highly elevated. Not wanting to leave Wesker just yet, Chris decided to stay the rest of the night as the blonde settled into the new bedding. Usually, the brunette would wake-up halfway through the night, and if Wesker was out, he would go back to his own room after checking in with the nurses’ station to keep an ear out for the blonde.

Wesker had had nightmares before, but this was the worst he had ever witnessed, and he had been afraid Wesker was stuck in his own head, unable to rouse the blonde from whatever had him screaming at the top of his lungs, eyes open but unseeing. It was genuinely frightening what could possibly break Wesker down so much to rip such a reaction from him. Chris was reluctantly glad the room was somewhat soundproof with the amount of screaming that had transpired that night.

Wesker was in a complete daze, and now with impending sleep once again looming, he was struck with paralyzing fear. Chris watched as the emotions played out over the older man’s face as if Chris wasn’t there. It was heartbreaking, and Chris went to reach for the small lamp on the nightstand to turn it off, but a shaking pale hand grabbed his wrist painfully tight. Swinging his gaze to Wesker’s horrified face, a small pleading request slipped past the quivering lips, “Don’t…”

Chris stared back silently, slowly withdrawing his hand from the lamp, the grip loosening and allowing the younger man’s hand to slip out of the pale grasp. Wesker was shaking, eyes glassy and nervous, like he could not take his eyes off the brunette for fear he would disappear. Chris sighed, not really wanting to pry but asking anyway, “Do you want to talk about it?” The blonde shook in the negative and somehow looked even more frightened then he did before. Not pushing for anything more and Wesker not daring to volunteer anything, they stared at each other for a long time.

Chris was exhausted, but he knew Wesker was even more so, dark bags under the now-dull serpentine eyes that flitted around the room on occasion, looking at every dark corner as if something was going to crawl out of it.

As his head started to droop, Chris could hear the start of the blonde’s breaths to quicken, and he jerked his eyes open to see the older man violently shivering, sitting upright, and staring at the bathroom door which was open and dark.

Stretching and gaining the attention of Wesker, who quieted, likely not realizing he was making such noises, Chris stood up to use the bathroom, closing the door as he did his business. Washing his hands and leaving the light on but closing the door behind him, he made his way next to Wesker’s bedside.

Wesker watched with reluctance as Chris hovered, which switched to shock as Chris climbed into the bed next to him, causing the older man to grunt from having to shift and make room, the thrashing from his nightmare having caused his muscles to now be screaming in agony. A protest started to escape Wesker’s lips as he scrunched his face up in disbelief at the brunette’s boldness, Chris shushed him and wrapped his arms around the blonde to pull the older man into his chest. However, laid on top of the blankets to allow Wesker a barrier between them, Chris shuffled closer.

Wesker shuddered slightly and gripped onto the thick biceps, but slowly melted into the embrace, taking a deep breath and for the first time in a long time, felt somewhat calm, protected. Still, he whispered a challenge to keep things on even ground, “This changes nothing between us. I still despise you.”

Wesker could feel the brunette chuckle, and it vibrated through him, and he could not help but burrow closer, telling himself it was only because Chris was warm. Chris retorted softly, “I expected no less. Now shut up, Albert. Get some sleep.”

After several minutes of listening to Chris’s breaths deepen and even out, Wesker finally was able to close his eyes and not feel the remnant afterglow of his own prospective death nor envision the pale eyes of the long-deceased Captain Albert Wesker. Wesker finally slept as the light from the rising sun crept through the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written horror before so hopefully, it was creepy enough.


	7. The Surprise Visit Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris takes Wesker on a surprise trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place sometime after Desecration chapter 5 and before chapter 7. Wesker can walk but still struggles with it. No warnings, pre-fluff

Chris could not hold in his excitement, and Wesker knew the brunette had something wild planned, but the younger man’s lips were sealed and would not tell him where they were going. It had been a rough week for Wesker, and Chris was hoping he could cheer the older man up by taking him to a place he knew the blonde would love. Most days presented their own challenges, and it was a struggle for Wesker as well as Chris, trying to maintain his composure against the rollercoaster of emotions from the blonde.

Wesker was a bit nervous as this was his first drive off of the campus, brows furrowed in apprehension as he watched the passing scenery. The morning had not started off well at all and not one for too many surprises at the moment, Wesker certainly had every right to have his misgivings.

Slightly surprised when they arrived at a small strip mall in one of the close by towns, Chris parked the borrowed vehicle and turned towards the blonde who looked at him like he was about to bolt, serpentine eyes slightly glassy and his breaths increased. Not truly wanting to interact with others, Wesker was internally asking himself why he even agreed to this.

Despite the drive not being that long, he almost asked Chris to turn around many times, that he had changed his mind, that he wasn’t ready to interact with the mass of civilians. Swallowing and in a tight voice, Wesker asked, “Can we go back? Please?”

Chris could see the struggle, eyes darting to examine Wesker’s emotional state. “I promise it will be worth it, Albert. You just need to trust me. You don’t even have to say anything, all you have to do is point at what you want and I'll buy it for you.”

The blonde was taken aback, confused, “Where are we going?” Chris shook his head, slightly smiling, “You have to get out of the car to find out.” Chris had purposefully parked so that Wesker could not see the building they would be visiting. It being tucked around the corner of the strip mall where the shops were set further back.

Looking back over the seat, still incredibly nervous, Wesker scanned the stores but could see nothing of interest. Chris had made this out to be a trip he would be inclined to want to make more than once. And would even be begging Chris to take him. Looking back towards the brunette, Wesker’s curiosity got the better of him.

Deciding if he didn’t want to go in, he would demand that they leave and try again another day, “Alright. This better be worth my time.” Despite the heatedness behind the meaning, it came out almost in a quiet whisper as Wesker’s eyes pierced Chris’s, whose now seemed to sparkle with delight.

“Are you ok to walk? I brought the chair if you need it.” Need. Chris knew that not requiring the chair was a matter of pride for Wesker, but he brought it nonetheless. Just in case.

It was a sort of crutch for the blonde when he wanted to close himself in. Chris watched the internal struggle as Wesker’s expressions debated within himself. If Wesker walked, he had the freedom to turn around and escape back to the car, but if he was in the chair, Chris could very well push him despite his protests.

Wesker finally placed a gloved hand on the door handles, looking at the brunette a few more seconds, who had a knowing smile on his face and opened the door, which made Chris bolt out of his side of the car to rush around to help Wesker stand. Grimacing but mostly able to get out of the vehicle by himself, Chris hovering a hand under his bicep but not touching, only there to catch if Wesker slumped.

But Wesker stood tall with the support of his snake-headed cane with its ruby eyes. The sunglasses now in place, hiding the apprehension that caused the older man to stand rigid. Slowly, they walked past the rear of the car, and Chris steered him past several other parking spaces, not crossing just yet to gauge the blonde’s demeanor as the surprise came into sight.

When it did, Chris only pointed in the direction of the neon orange sign, Wesker’s line of sight following. However, the reaction that came from Wesker was very startling and not the one Chris had hoped for. The initial response, of course, was shock and they stood there for several minutes, the blonde’s mouth set open in awe which Chris beamed at slightly as he stood next to the other man, almost bouncing but holding himself back. But the subsequent reaction was completely unexpected.

The shocked open mouth turned into a grimace; teeth clenched as the blonde tried to stifle a choked sob. Panicking as thick tears started to run down the pale cheeks, Chris lightly touched the blonde’s shoulder, which caused the other’s head to wrench in his direction, causing another choked noise to hitch in the blonde’s chest as Wesker started to tremble.

Chris couldn’t help his panicked expression at what was happening, or understand why Wesker was so upset. Still, he was taken aback when Wesker shuffled himself with great difficulty to wrap his left arm around the brunette’s bulk to sink his face into Chris’s shoulder, more sobs wracking the still-healing body. Chris wrapped both arms to help keep the blonde upright as he continued to sob. Chris stared solemnly at their destination. His hopes it would cheer Wesker up crushed, and he felt horrible to have caused the older man to become so distraught over a pastry shop.

Then another unexpected reaction came jolting forth, a laugh started to break through the sobs until the blonde was hiccupping and chuckling. Leaning away and taking off his sunglasses, the red-rimmed eyes visible now as a gloved hand wiped away the thick tears that still rolled down the slightly pink cheeks, smiling now despite the unending tears, Wesker whispered, “I hate this.” Hiccupping a few more times and now using the sleeve of his peacoat to clean his face, Wesker sheepishly mumbled, “Sorry.”

Blanching, Chris was utterly confused, “Why are you sorry? If anyone’s sorry, it’s me. I was trying to cheer you up, not cause a breakdown.”

Not making eye contact but cleaning the streaks from his wet eyelashes off his sunglasses with a small handkerchief, “Sorry that I want to be happy, excited even, yet my mind decided on a different output. It’s frustrating wanting to do one thing, and the brain decides to do something else.”

Still bracing one arm on Wesker’s shoulder to steady the trembling blonde, reluctantly, Chris offered, “We can go back to the campus, try another time.”

Red eyes shot up gaping at Chris as if the brunette had the audacity to mention they leave, “Not a chance in hell. You owe me…” Now Chris was confused, obliviously so, as the sunglasses now covered the eyes glowing in amusement, tears still slightly sparkling at the corners hidden from view.

Pointing at the blonde as if in accusation, Wesker said one word, and it explained everything, “Cake.” Chris froze, face turned white, “I don’t have a stove! Plus, you could only eat sugar recently! I wasn’t going to let you pig out and then get sick all over for me and Rose to clean up!” Wesker made a pouty face but ended up chuckling, chastising the younger man, “Such a lame excuse. You don't seem to mind cleaning up my other messes.” Causing Chris to blush, "Please don't go there. Dirty bastard."

Looking down at his feet, Wesker continued to pout, sighing heavily as he looked up at the neon sign reading ‘DONUTS’ across the small lane, reluctantly he turned back towards the brunette, the strain of standing obvious now in the hunched shoulders, “I might need the chair after all. I’m exhausted.”

Chris didn’t hesitate and took the few bounding leaps back towards the car to get the chair, and quickly came up to the still shaking blonde, the exertion of standing a bit too much for the distance he would have to travel to get his sugar rush. With assistance, Wesker sat in the chair with a slight growl, still not happy with his body’s limited mobility. Still, his mind was preoccupied with visions of pastries, cakes, cookies, and disgustingly sweet coffee with so much sugar in it that it pooled at the bottom of the cup, to be self-conscious of being pushed in the wheelchair.

Wesker had been waiting patiently for his system to return to mostly normal, having had to start with clear liquids from the damage to his intestine, of which quite a bit had to be removed during surgery.

But now. All food was free game, and despite his initial overwhelming response at seeing the bakery, Wesker was salivating. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a decent donut, much less visit an actual bakery. And they were in NY.

“What are you waiting for, Caretaker? We have a mission to accomplish.” Chris chuckled at the dry humor, “As you wish, Albert.”

Chris watched Wesker’s face, and it was great seeing the blonde man smile after the earlier episode of emotional overload. Wesker would have bought the whole store if he could, but Chris convinced him to take it easy. The ladies running the counter adored Wesker and basically let him try whatever he wanted, having seen the episode through the lightly fogged windows.

Wesker was playing his role well and was able to get a few free sweets to try as there were a few pastries even he had never heard of. Finally, after a good 45 minutes of ogling and questions and pointing, Chris and Wesker made their way back to the car with a bunch of white boxes wrapped in red and white string.

Chris went about setting the boxes in the backseat after situating Wesker with the heat on blast as it was a chilly day. Quickly placing the chair in the trunk, Chris finally settled into the driver’s seat with a huff leaning back on the headrest, eyes closed and sighing, the warmth of the heater comforting.

All he could hear was the crinkle of wax paper and Wesker humming and chewing next to him, sneaking a peek over to his charge, Chris smiled as Wesker stuffed his face, “You’ll make yourself sick if you keep inhaling your treats.”

A blazing red eye rolled to pierce the brunette with a knowing stare but apparently not caring, “I refuse to clean up any mess you make.” Shrugging and resuming his munching, and through a mouth full of crumb cake, “Fair enough. It seems I’ve already made plenty of beds to lie in, what’s one more.”

Chuckling at the dark humor, Chris pulled out of the strip mall and back towards the campus. It was the first of many trips to the bakery, which was always a joyous pick-me-up for both of them, bringing back fond memories of the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I don’t know what the fuck happened, but I am in a horrible funk and have no motivation at all to write anything. I have a bunch of chapters outlined, even one for the Peace Offering (it’s so fucking dirty btw). I started chapter 2 of sacrifice, but it looks like shit at the moment and a bunch of other ideas for starters for the other works, but I’m stuck in the mud. 
> 
> Like a light switch turning off in my head. Between work and school, I have lost a lot of steam. Hopefully, this will help me feel a bit more motivated.


	8. The Surprise Visit Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker pays dearly for indulging in his sweets, but as with all things, Chris saves the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided this takes place after chapter 5 and before chapter 7. Wesker and Chris have rekindled their game already. warning: bathroom humor

Chris was finally relaxing for the evening after a fairly pleasant afternoon visiting the bakery and Wesker’s mood floating out of the dark place it had sunk into during the early morning hours when suddenly his phone buzzed. Groaning, there was only a handful of people who would bother him this late.

‘I require your assistance. Right now. I have run out of toilet paper and demand you bring me more. No, I am not asking Rose.’

Chris stared at the message for a moment, frozen. And then stared some more. The fact that the request was in complete sentences and included punctuation. Like it was a formal supply closet request. Chris could not help but chuckle and wondering on how long it would take to get a second response.

It did not take long when the second message came through, ‘I could play this as being your fault, you know.’ Chris laughed outright now.

Chris quickly responded as he sat up from his bed, ‘That’s rich after I warned you in the car what would happen.’

Silence for a moment, but the expected reply came, ‘It was so worth it, Christopher. You have no idea how bland food has been.’

Then a bit more silence followed, ‘Please? I’ve sprayed. I swear.’

Chris slapped a hand over his forehead and jerked forward, trying not to die from laughter as tears escaped his eyes. Maybe it was a guy thing. Or a work thing. Or a ‘we-had-a-steamy-sexy-fuck-buddy/whirlwind-romance’ thing where dealing with such bathroom issues stopped being crude and just became normal relationship banter.

Not that Chris wanted to smell what was going on in the blonde’s bathroom right now, but he knew that Wesker had to be in great discomfort and pain from his body trying to finally process complex sugars. Which, from the sounds of it, was not going so well. And God knows how much that man inhaled throughout the day from what was purchased at the bakery. Probably all of it.

Chris quickly typed out a response, not wanting to leave Wesker hanging to start panicking, ‘If I bring you what you need, what’s in it for me?’

Almost instantaneously, ‘Goddamit Redfield, I’ll suck your fucking cock, just bring me fucking TP!’

Chris laughed harder. It was a very tempting offer, but he didn’t trust Wesker as far as he could throw him right now despite their intimate past. Plus, they had an unspoken bet, who would cave first.

‘Tempting, but out of the goodness of my heart, I will assist you. I guess you have suffered enough. Anything else you need my damsel in distress?’

Chris could hear the anger in the response, ‘Fucking asshat… The pink stuff and a new intestinal track.’

Quickly followed by, ‘Make that a whole new body.’

Sighing, knowing Wesker was definitely suffering, he felt slightly guilty making fun of the older man, only slightly, ‘Give me a few, I’ll see what I can do.’

Throwing his clothes on from earlier, Chris made his way down to the nurses’ station who had been blessed with their own box of pastries earlier that day as a thank you. Asking for extra TP, the pink stuff, and antacids, Chris now made his way to Wesker’s room. Standing outside, he sent one last text, ‘Spray again. I don’t want to smell your stench.’

Giving Wesker another minute, he knocked and entered and felt like he was punched in the nose. No spray could seemingly overcome the ungodly smell of intestines that didn’t work properly. Chris yelled from the door, “I told you to spray again!” The frustrated response made Chris chuckle, “I fucking did! Goddamit! How do you think I feel being at the epicenter of it!”

Chris laughed out loud now, and hearing a very deep growling, he made his way to the partially closed bathroom door, “Decent?” There was hesitation, and a reluctant response, “Yes.”

Holding his nose, Chris opened the bathroom door slightly wider to hand the treasured item to the blonde man inside who was pale and sweating bullets sitting on the toilet. Chris stepped back out quickly after meeting the intense glaring red and closing the door. Only a sliver of it open now.

Chris could hear the older man grumbling as he finished his business. Several flushes later and the shower turned on. Chris gaped as he leaned against the other side of the door frame, “Are you fucking serious? You couldn’t have don’t that in the first place?!”

Wesker did not answer right away, “No. There is a process.”

Pushing the door open more to stare at the now fogged up shower. Clothes dropped in front of the stall, Chris balked at the observation accusatory, “You didn’t?!”

“What?! No! I just want to be fucking clean, Chris! I have some control over my functions, thank you! Pink stuff?”

Stepping up to the shower, Chris looked away from the door, blushing slightly, as it opened and a wet hand grabbed the bottle, the door closing again quickly as Chris stepped back out. The smell of fresh soap definitely a good thing at this point. Chris could smell the slight underlying scent of stale sweat from the older man in the room. It had apparently not been a pleasant evening for the blonde.

“Was it truly worth it, Albert?” There was silence for a moment. 

“Yes.”

Laughing heartily, Chris stepped away from the bathroom to gather some clean clothes for the blonde, despite not being asked. Loose-fitting clothing that would not constrict Wesker's aching abdomen. Stepping back to the bathroom, he threw them on the railing opposite the shower so Wesker would not have to come traipsing out in a towel.

Chris sat in his usual chair quietly, listening to the shuffling as the water was turned off. A quite mumble wafted from the bathroom, “Thanks.” Chris smiled at the partially open door, slightly seeing the other man drying off and dressing quickly. Chris sighed, somewhat concerned that this all felt absolutely normal, this not being Wesker’s first bathroom fiasco during recovery.

Wesker stepped out to lean heavily in the doorway, gripping the frame, still slightly pale and skin a bit waxy looking, the towel wrapped around his neck as his hair was still wet and dripping slightly. Wesker stared at Chris, who had leaned his head on his palm, waiting patiently for the blonde to finally come out, the brunette’s eyebrows raised in amusement as the older man’s face crumpled in disgust, “Fuck you, you bastard.”

“You loved every mouthful.” Wesker turned his head to the side, breaking eye contact and staring at the several empty white boxes, “Yes. Yes, I certainly did. I unfortunately never know what the next day might bring. For better or worse.”

Chris scoffed, “You know you’re safe here.” Wesker brought his attention back to the brunette in his chair and frowned, starting to make his way to his bed, grunting and grimacing, “I’m not talking about that.”

Making it to his bed, he sat facing away from Chris, shoulders hunched in exhaustion, finishing drying his hair and tossing the towel towards the bathroom to land haphazardly on the floor. Shuffling up towards his pillows, he laid down, arms encircling his stomach.

“Lay on your left side. Here take these too.” Chris handed Wesker three large antacids, who almost inhaled them before realizing what they were. Coughing on the chalkiness and slowly turning onto his left side, Wesker looked questioningly at the brunette. Without prompting, Chris explained, “It will reduce further heartburn. Where did you leave the pink stuff?”

Settling in on his side, Wesker pointed towards the bathroom door behind him. Chris hesitated, debating if he wanted to enter the lion’s den of stenches. “I’ll get you another bottle. I’m not going in there again.”

Now it was Wesker’s turn to mock the brunette, smiling despite his discomfort, “What?! The BSAA’s top model soldier can’t step into a bathroom? Pity.” Chris now scrunched his face up, “I can think of hundreds of other things I’d much rather do then go in there.”

Wesker was curious now, “Like?”

Chris smirked, “Like bake a cake.” Wesker almost instantly turned green, “Please don’t talk about anything involving sugar. In fact, can you take the boxes out? I can’t even look at them right now without feeling sick.” The lament was followed by an uncomely belch from the blonde, who shot a hand over his mouth, blushing.

Chris stared at Wesker, who looked absolutely miserable, but he knew the older man needed a change of pace and would give the other man a break, “Alright, anything for you.” Chris rose and grabbed some of the empty boxes and made his way out to the hall and nurses’ area to request more pink stuff and to dispose of the evidence of Wesker’s turmoil.

Returning and grabbing the last few boxes, he saw there were a few pieces left and brought them back to share with the night crew as it was getting pretty late. Returning with the requested item, Wesker had seemingly fallen asleep in the same position Chris had left him in, arms around his middle, and propped up slightly on his pillows on his left side. Chris sighed and pulled a blanket over the resting form.

Chris placed the pink bottle on the nightstand, along with the bottle of antacids and a can of ginger ale with a straw that he snagged from the fridge when no one was looking. The drink Wesker had preferred when he had stomach trouble earlier in his recovery, the straw to reduce the bubbles.

Chris startled at the soft words, jerking his head towards Wesker, whose eyes were still closed, “You are too kind, Chris, I do not deserve the attention you have graced me with these past few weeks.” Wesker looked melancholy. Chris could not pinpoint his own feelings precisely, but he felt concerned nonetheless, and he sat on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on the older man’s back to gently massage it, “We’ve been over this, Albert. It’s late. You should rest.”

Wesker opened his eyes, gazing at the brunette, but didn’t retort, just that calculating stare. Chris knew Wesker was scheming something, and he narrowed his eyes at the smoldering stare, “Do you want me to stay?”

Wesker contemplated it, but he really didn’t need the presence of the brunette like he did before, the nightmares and flashbacks having receded mostly. Though the company was pleasant, Wesker reluctantly answered, “I think I’ll be fine.”

Chris genuinely smiled, “If you need me, just text or call. I don’t sleep deeply anymore, so I’ll hear it. And don’t apologize, it’s fine.” Chris cut off the apology before Wesker even thought to make it, slightly taken aback. Chris patted the blonde’s back before standing and making his way towards the door.

Taking one last look back, he could see the glittering red eyes in the dark, “Good night, Albert.”

And then there was darkness, the eyelids closed, “Good night, Chris. Thank you. For everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was surprised the last chapter was so well received, I had to do this one. I'm working on things here and there so I definitely feel better, thank you so very much to everyone who has commented on my works thus far, they are great motivators.
> 
> I thought this follow-up would be cute. Wesker is more human then he wants to admit lol. Plus, I need to break up the smut somehow because once I get rolling on my peace offering, there will be some need for buckling up. 
> 
> If you have ever been in a long-term relationship (friendship, dating, or marriage or anything in between), this is normal. At least potty humor is in my 11+ yr arrangement, the magic has left the building and sarcastic bathroom humor has replaced it.


	9. Nightmare II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker has a flashback/nightmare of his assault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This starts out very dark, so please read and heed the warnings. Warning: rape, rough anal sex, sexual violence, grievous injury, PTSD – flashbacks, angst, hurt/comfort
> 
> Occurs sometime after chapter 4 and before 5 of Desecration. Could potentially be before Nightmare I. Lots of angst, Wesker’s mind is fucking with him on an otherworldly scale.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Wesker clenched his eyes shut in absolute agony, tears slipping past regardless of how tightly he tried to shut them, unable to hold the liquid back as his rapist thought he was merciful by actually being gentle as he fucked him. The cock slid along his prostate just so that it was not a brutally harsh force like his previous antagonists but stroked the battered sensitive gland to build another orgasm. The flaming chemicals continued to run through Wesker’s system, keeping him erect.

The pain and arousal were unending, and there was nothing he could compare this moment to, not even the abuse he was physically and mentally subjected to growing up in Umbrella’s clutches. Wesker could feel the weak orgasm building to a head, and he clenched his teeth as it crested, still trying to fight against the never-ending assault by withholding sounds. Wesker could hear feet shuffling but dared not open his eyes as he felt them collect another sample, causing him to snarl.

Wesker could hear his rapist’s loud, lewd sounds, and it disgusted him. The grunts of pleasure were only slightly muffled through the gasmask from the moderate pace the tyrant’s attacker had set for himself. Wesker could not help the abrupt moan that escaped his mouth at his rapist’s gentle exuberance, and his body reacted with forceful nausea, which contorted his insides as he tried to retch. The small amount of bile that did make its way up burned his esophagus and throat, prevented from expulsion by the leather gag situated in his mouth.

Wesker suddenly felt a hand grip his cock and start to jerk him off in time to his rapist’s thrusts. An agonized keening erupted around the gag in Wesker’s mouth, now at the pleasurable feeling of the hand jerking his aroused flesh. Blood splattered forcefully around the gag, painting his bruised face with more red specks, the rest hitting the already saturated table as Wesker somehow was able to maintain the sound as another orgasm grew from the forced stimulation.

Wesker could tell his rapist was enjoying himself from the obscene sounds he was making and the increased thrusts into his torn and ruin flesh, his entire lower region on fire. Wesker sucked in a ragged breath and froze, realizing what his rapist was trying to do, he wanted them to cum together. Wesker was deeply traumatized by this deranged person’s sick fantasy, who was forcing his body to be roused by his ministrations. A deep sob rattled Wesker’s damaged chest as he felt his body build-up for another intense climax. He could tell his rapist was close as well if the grunts were any indication.

The hand suddenly gripped him harder and Wesker came harshly, crying out loudly as he felt hot searing liquid fill him, his body trying to jerk uncontrollably from the intensity of it, but strong hands continued to hold him down with bruising force. The agent thrust a few more times before withdrawing, causing Wesker to gasp at the repeated jabbing against his oversensitive insides only to experience utter emptiness, a small reprieve.

Wesker sobbed as dull pain replaced the sharp stabbing. There was silence for several minutes, and none of the agents moved. Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps could be heard making their way down the hall. Wesker snapped his swollen eyes open as much as he could to look around the room. Something wasn’t right. Grunting with effort, Wesker fought against the hands holding him down to observe the doorway, the footsteps getting closer. Not receiving any leeway, Wesker was unable to see what was coming, but he swore he knew that gait.

Struggling more intently to see who this new person was, Wesker was able to wrench his head forward slightly only to have his hair gripped tightly, and his head slammed back against the table, jolting his skull enough where he saw black spots in his vision. The footsteps stopped seemingly in the doorway, and Wesker heard a dark chuckle that sounded incredibly familiar. He knew that voice.

“Chhmmph!!!!”

Wesker felt immediate relief wash over him. Chris was here to save him from these monsters who have been brutalizing him nonstop for what seemed like hours upon hours. “CHHMMPH!!” Despite his desperate calling, there was still no movement from the agents who should have already confronted the BSAA agent. Wesker tried to see the brunette but could not move his head forward against the hands holding him down.

Something was terribly wrong. Wesker swallowed as the footsteps resumed, coming ever closer to his line of sight, the relief he had felt slowly ebbing away as the brunette came into view, a shark grin splitting the handsome face as he stopped just short of where the blonde’s legs dangled off the table. “Oh, what a sight for sore eyes you are. Finally getting what was coming to you, eh?” Wesker’s eyes widened with disbelief, as much as they could, past the swelling anyways.

Chris’s grin was maniacal and grew bigger as several tears rolled down Wesker’s face, shaking his head at the utter wrongness of everything transpiring. This is not how this was supposed to play out. In the silence, Wesker heard the sound of a heavy belt being undone, and he sobbed loudly, thick tears erupted as he continued to shake his head, trying to speak through the gag for Chris to stop, who only chuckled as a zipper was undone.

Wesker’s body violently trembled as he felt Chris grab under both knees, the few nerve connections still intact in his right leg, blazed white-hot pain up his body, and he screamed as his legs were pushed back. Wesker could feel Chris’s erection press up against his abused flesh and almost gently prod at his entrance. Wesker continued to scream as Chris pressed forward, the brunette grinning with a crazed glint in his eyes that were blown, completely dilated, not fazed at all by Wesker’s pain or the condition he was in.

Wesker tried to yell through the gag for Chris to stop, starting a mantra of muffled nonsense that the brunette probably could not understand as he fully sheathed himself. Releasing Wesker’s damaged right leg to drop back against the table heavily, causing another scream to erupt from the blonde, which was quickly cut short as Chris gripped the tyrant’s jaw with his now freed hand, “You’re not even worth saving. You’re just the sad leftovers of an old man’s dream, an abomination that should never have existed. No one will even care if you’re gone.”

Wesker’s face crumpled into an anguished expression of betrayal, sobs racking his trembling body. The pain from his right leg being moved and the hard cock buried deep inside him he could bear, but this brutal treatment from a man he had let into his life, had given a part of himself to, that he trusted to be merciful, was incomprehensible. Wesker could not grasp why Chris was doing this, and he tried to convey his confusion with a muffled, ‘Why?’ through the gag and the brunette’s hand clenching his jaw tighter.

Despite Wesker’s deep resentment of Chris’s perpetual goodness, Chris had always been just that for as long as the blonde had known him. Chris was the heart of STARS, and even after Wesker’s betrayal, the brunette had remained true to his persona as the self-righteous savior. But this was not that Chris. This Chris was cruel, relentless.

Chris sneered at the blonde and started to thrust into the abused orifice; Wesker cried out against the gag and tried to arch against the movements, his body’s sad attempt at pulling away from the harsh treatment. “I never cared about you. You are just a thing to be used. A means to an end, and you couldn’t even manage that properly. This is all you’ll ever be good for, just a hole to be used and thrown aside, disappointing trash.” Wesker’s mind finally broke, and he wailed as the brunette violated him over and over.

Wesker’s eyes shot opened and he launched forward so violently he toppled out of his bed with a loud crash as he knocked into one of the rolling tables, sending it and the items on it flying. Wesker was sprawled on the floor, eyes wide and darting every which way, breaths ragged, and tears were pouring down his face at the horrific twist his mind had created from his memories. Over his own desperate gasps, he could hear Chris on the other side of the room, a chair skidding on the floor and soft steps, “Albert? Are you alright?”

Wesker froze in apprehension, and as Chris came into view, deep concern etched over the brunette’s face, the blonde flinched backward violently. A small whine escaped Wesker's lips, fear evident in his wide gaze as he started attempting to stand but was unable to get his feet under him, his body in absolute agony.

Chris stepped forward, but Wesker cringed back and raised an arm, a shaking palm angled outward as if to shield himself from any vicious blows, “STOP! PLEASE! Just… Just stay BACK!” Chris put his hands up as he tried to figure out what the hell was happening as he backed up, confused and unsure why Wesker looked as if the brunette had terrorized him. Wesker sobbed and quickly shuffled himself towards the bathroom, his body aching severely from the vicious memory.

Violently trembling, Wesker attempted to close the bathroom door on the slowly approaching brunette, but he did not have the leverage and it bounced off one of his useless legs as he dragged himself into the shower clothes and all as fast as he could, ignoring Chris for a moment to turn the water on full blast. Wesker immediately crumbled under the streaming water, keening loudly against the residual images that still flashed through his vision.

Wesker continued to feel the remnants of the pain he had felt in his lower region from the repeatedly brutal violations from his assault. Despite Chris not truly being there, Wesker could not help but angle his terrorized gaze at the brunette, who now stood in the doorway. Wesker stared at Chris in absolute fear as nausea built up to the point his stomach finally rebelled, and the blonde turned to the side to retch, the mess quickly washed away by the shower.

Able to slightly control his body after being sick, Wesker curled up under the spray of water, his hands between his legs protectively, which were drawn up tightly against his chest. The awful keening resumed, and it reminded Chris of the sound that Wesker was making when he found him on the ship. “Another nightmare, Albert? Or a flashback?” The keening suddenly turned into a loud sob as Wesker curled tighter into himself under the spray of water.

“ **FUCK**!!!!”

Wesker slammed his head back, and it thunked against the tile wall. He turned to glare back at Chris, his face contorted in anguished terror, and it was focused entirely at the brunette’s person, who gaped in unexpected surprise, brows furrowed at the intensity in the serpentine eyes. Wesker clenched his eyes shut and banged his head back against the tile wall again, grimacing as he angled his face upward directly into the warm spray of water as he wept, hands still protectively covering himself between his legs which were cinched together, feet overlapping.

Chris sighed as he watched Wesker tremble under the ‘cleansing’ water, the brunette witness to this act at least a few times a day the past week or so as Wesker’s flashbacks started to become more and more intense, disrupting the healing process.

Wesker refused to talk about what he was reliving, which only made things worse despite Chris repeatedly encouraging him to talk. This was the first time; however, the fear was directed at him, and it hurt. Chris felt guilty even though he didn’t know what Wesker’s mind had concocted, but whatever it was, it must have been horrifying enough to break the older man down into the sopping weeping mess he was in this moment.

Sighing, Chris tossed his shoes and socks and rolled up his pants as much as he could, stepped into the shower to angle the showerhead down completely overtop of Wesker and turned to sit on the molded seat and sat waiting, concern creasing his mouth downward, “Albert, I’m sorry.” Wesker was so caught up in the residual aftereffects he didn’t even realize Chris was sitting right in front of him. Unconsciously, Wesker pressed his back further against the tile wall as much as he could, legs pulled up tighter, and drew in a sharp breath.

Chris could tell tears still fell from the red serpentine eyes as Wesker suddenly looked guilt-ridden, fear still resonating. Wesker whispered through the hidden tears that were washed away by the soothing shower, “Why are you sorry?” Chris sighed and sat back, “I have obviously done something awful to you for you to look at me in utter terror and… I’m sorry about that.” Wesker brought his hands up to cover his face, a convulsed movement jerked his body as he tried to stifle a sob, “It wasn’t real!! It wasn’t really you!”

Chris wanted Wesker to talk, needed him to talk, or things will only get worse and worse until the blonde was afraid of every dark corner, “But I hurt you in some way, in your mind, for you to react like this.” Chris kept his position as neutral as he could, “Why are you so afraid of me, Albert?” But Wesker did not move, his body trembling silently now. Chris pushed gently, “What did I do that was so horrible?” Still no movement and silence except calculated breaths. Chris wanted to lunge forward and remove the hands covering the blonde’s face but knew if he did, the trust would be lost, and they would have to start all over again.

Chris whispered gently, not wanting to startle Wesker any further, “Did I hurt you?” Finally, after several minutes, there was movement, and the fingers parted. The fear that had been directed at Chris had evolved into deep sorrow, a quiet whisper escaping the still hidden mouth, “Yes.” Chris brought a hand up to pinch his brow, shutting his eyes, “Bad?” Chris was not expecting an answer, but Wesker surprised him by finally sharing what awful things his mind was subjecting him to. Wesker wasn’t looking at Chris anymore but had leaned his head against his knees to stare down at the water as it streamed down the drain, still quietly whispering, “You took liberties…”

Chris leaned forward slightly to gape in shock, covering his mouth but not saying anything, not daring to break the spell of Wesker finally talking about his nightmares. Wesker kept rambling, his gaze unfocused, “You were the… the fourth… I think… I can’t really remember... how many there were… It dragged on for hours and hours…” Wesker’s face scrunched up, trying to stop the emotional faucet. Chris shivered at learning this information. Never could he forget how severely injured Wesker had been left after being viciously assaulted, and it made him furious.

“You were… merciless. You said I was just a thing to be used, an abomination that should have never existed, and that… that you never cared about m—”

“You know that’s not true!” Chris stood abruptly, and Wesker flinched back at the raised voice, eyes wide at the abrupt movement. Chris quickly sat back down at Wesker’s startled expression, hands raised to placate the blonde, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! But … you know I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care.” Chris dropped his head into his hands, which muffled his words, but the intense concern was still there, “Albert, you have no idea how scared I was when I found you. That I am still afraid FOR you, these nightmares are getting worse, and I want to help you so badly. I know we can’t go back to the way things were, but….”

Chris looked back up at the raw anguish in Wesker’s expression, and Chris tried to reassure him with a heartfelt confession, “Albert, I never stopped caring.” And Chris caught the tiny flicker of a lip curling up, but it dropped back down as the brunette continued, “But you were never who you said you were, and yet, despite that, I’m still here.”

Wesker looked guilty now, eyes downturned again, and Chris knew renewed tears were being hidden by the downpour of the shower that encased Wesker is a protective shroud. There was much more to who Wesker was back then and more so even now, and there was so much to say, but the blonde felt like his tongue was tied, unable to correct Chris’s version of past events. Sitting in silence for a good 10 minutes, Chris finally sighed.

“Albert, you can’t live the rest of your life in the shower.” Wesker didn’t move but angled intense, blazing red eyes up in challenge at Chris, causing the brunette to smile at the blonde’s sudden renewed spunk, “Watch me.”

Chris kept smiling, and the silent tension could be cut with a knife, and then Chris stood up over Wesker and turned the shower off, causing Wesker to narrow his eyes up at the brunette, but he didn’t say anything nor did he move from his still compact position at the bottom of the stall. Chris sighed sadly, “Thank you. For opening up, Albert. I know this is not easy and for what it’s worth, I’m still sorry.”

Chris stepped out of the stall and started grabbing items Wesker would need once he decided to leave the shower; towels, clean clothes, comb, and smirking, the brunette left something new for Wesker to discover next to the items that he believed would entice Wesker out from his hiding place.

From where Wesker sat, he couldn’t see what it was but craned his neck in curiosity as he knew it was not something Chris typically set out for him over the past week’s multiple showers. Chris left him to his own devices, closing the bathroom door and going back to his research at the small desk in the back corner of Wesker’s room.

Wesker sat for several minutes and finally decided to get out of his soaked clothes once he started to shiver. With great difficulty, Wesker used the shower bars to pull himself up from his tightly compacted position, the ache that had manifested in his lower region from his nightmare having mostly receded. Hunched over and teeth clenched, Wesker dropped his saturated clothes at the bottom of the stall and slowly made his way out to the large fluffy towels and warm clothes.

Towel wrapped around him, Wesker dropped into the chair situated for him since his range of movement was still very limited and stared at the new item Chris had left for him. Wesker wasn’t sure how to react, his emotions running together, and finally, he smiled through his tears as he gripped the container of pomade Chris had left for him, and he bowed his head forward, curling into himself as he tried to stifle a sob, clutching the container tightly.

Wesker knew he didn’t deserve this, but Chris wouldn’t have left it if the brunette didn’t want him to have it. Wesker stared at the container and inspected it from every side. It was a familiar brand, one he had used before, a very long time ago. Wiping away his tears and snuffling, Wesker finished drying off and dressing in the clothes Chris had set out for him.

Wesker’s left arm was still limited to small movements, so he used his right hand to comb his hair, and using the pomade, slicked it back in his usual style. Examining himself in the bathroom mirror, Wesker could not help the tiny smile at the recognition, feeling a bit more like himself. Despite all the grief he gave Chris, Wesker gave the brunette credit that he did remember the little things, and the blonde was thankful for the small efforts Chris made to normalizing his situation.

Wesker had not planned on telling Chris about the nightmare or anything about the assault for that matter, but the violently twisted memory had disturbed and shaken him to his core, and he couldn’t keep it in any longer. Wesker knew the Chris in the dream was a fake, but it didn’t make it any less real or painful to experience. But he wanted, needed to trust Chris. The brunette was his handler now, his caretaker, practically his nursemaid, and it caused a mixture of emotions to bubble up inside him, opening doors he had closed a decade ago.

Wesker finally made his way out of the bathroom, and Chris turned in his seat to make sure the blonde was alright, and instantly the brunette’s face lit up, and he grinned, “Looking more like yourself.”

Wesker slightly lifted a lip in return as he leaned heavily against the doorway, dropping his gaze and looking timidly at his bare feet, “Slowly getting there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of this will play a part in Sacrifice chapter 3.


	10. Therapy Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker’s first few therapy sessions with Chris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some early dynamics between Chris and Wesker. Wesker is a grumpy old man. Chris just wants to help. Set during chapter 4.

Wesker shrank back from Chris’s touch immediately. The thought of being touched at all caused Wesker's anxiety to bubble forth and caused his muscles to vibrate, intensifying the already immense pain he was in.

Chris sighed lightly but persisted that there were no ulterior motives except to start the process towards Wesker’s independence. It would require a lot of work on the blonde’s part, and they both knew this and that Wesker would require Chris to gently manipulate his muscles to the optimal position to do just that. However, Wesker could not help the increased breaths as Chris helped him shift in the bed to lean up.

“Albert, you need to breathe.”

Wesker’s body was completely locked up, his face crumpled, eyes bolted shut, and on the verge of hyperventilating. Chris tried to keep an impassive face, but it was difficult and frustrating. Chris also could not blame Wesker for his reactions, “Look, Albert, I’m not going to touch you, but I need you to work with me here. Just look at me.”

Slowly, Wesker did open his eyes to acknowledge the request with poorly masked panic. Chris still sat close but not touching and held out a long blue flat band, like what you would expect to see in a pilates or aerobics class. Wesker stared between the band and Chris and back again, breathing easier but still obviously apprehensive, “What is that for?”

Chris lightly smiled, “It’s a resistance band. It’s so you can stretch without my help. At least for now.” Chris was surprised at how quickly Wesker calmed. That seemed to be the magic words right now, ‘No Touching.’ Unfortunately, Wesker would have to get over it at some point to work on more complex movement, but all in good time. There was no rush except at Wesker’s own determination.

“So here is what you are going to do. Since your right arm is practically healed, I’ll put loops in so that you can stretch at your own pace with the resistance band.” Already exhausted from the heightened fight or flight response, Wesker reluctantly nodded. He knew he had to do this. He was already starting to go mad sitting in the bed with Chris and the nurses for his only company. Chris had also informed him that BSAA management would be debriefing him on his options in the coming days. Something he did not look forward to.

Chris had made sure to have several bands of different lengths but went with the longest with the least resistance so that Wesker would not have to move his leg too much just yet. Baby steps. The brunette handed over the band with makeshift handholds, which Wesker grudgingly took.

Chris rose and wrapped the loose end around Wesker’s right foot. Chris quickly gauged Wesker’s response, which seemed accepting of the brunette’s movements as Chris avoided touching him and just moved the band in place around his socked foot. Chris stood at the end of the bed and smiled lightly, “Since your left arm is still healing, just use your right and flex slowly. I’m not going to lie Alert, this will hurt, but it’s part of the process. I know you’re about to go bat shit crazy and pull your hair out sitting in this room, so the sooner you’re moving, the sooner you can get out of here.”

The blazing-red glare and deep irritated frown he received was actually precious. Especially since most of Wesker’s emotions were in the anxiety and rage range the past few days. Wesker had always been stubborn, and Chris was ecstatic to see the determination in the other’s expression. Chris smiled, “That’s what I like to see. Just start slow. Pull your leg towards you. Take your time. No rush.”

Chris watched the blonde’s right arm flex slightly, just enough to pull the right leg back to bend the knee just a bit, slightly flexing his hip muscles. An immediate snarl escaped Wesker, his face drawn up in agony, and Chris could see the start of tears at the corner of Wesker’s eyes, but the blonde did not relent on the pressure. “Easy. Slow. Breathe. And stop biting your lip. You’re going to bleed all over the place.”

Wesker’s eyes shot up, his expression seething rage and pain as he let go of one side of the band, letting the small amount of leg he was able to raise to drop and tossed the blue band at Chris’s face, who caught it deftly. Without smirking and staring as neutral as possible at the older man who was sucking in air through flared nostrils. Gently Chris tried to soothe the blonde, “Albert, it’s going to take time, but you want to walk again, right? You need to try.”

Wesker was trembling from the small amount of effort, eyes fiercely sweeping the room to look anywhere but Chris, teeth clenched where he had pulled his bottom lip in between them and had punctured the skin. A small stream of blood trickled down his chin. Wesker had barely even moved the leg, and to vocalize his frustration, he hissed, “Fuck off!”

Chris could not help the small smirk, “Anger is good. Has always been a good motivator for you.” Tossing the band back into Wesker’s lap, Chris dropped his mouth back to a hard line, “Try again.” Wesker tilted his chin up and seethed something unintelligible but grabbed the band and tossed the loop over the bottom of his foot, and tried again. A small noise escaped the blonde in his efforts as he tried ignoring Chris’s existence. Using his anger as fuel, Wesker was more successful this time in bringing the leg up just slightly more.

Chris beamed, “You’re doing great, Alber—” But was cut off by a loud retort and vicious glare from the blonde, whose brow was slightly sheened with sweat, “SHUT UP CRETIN!” Wesker let the leg drop again, closing his eyes to breathe deeply as he dropped his head back, small tears having bubbled over and down his cheeks.

Sternly, Chris repeated, “Again.”

And so, it went. Chris would prompt another rep, each one seemingly more painful based on Wesker’s expression, but he was able to raise the leg higher and higher after taking long rests.

“Alright, let’s work on your left arm some.” Wesker’s response was that of a moody teenager, a small groan escaping as he flopped back as much as he could, staring miserably up at the ceiling that has been his view for the past week.

Chris knew Wesker was exhausted, but this was necessary. He needed to gauge where Wesker’s range of motion was at and giving the blonde some time before Chris had to become truly involved, “Alright, a small break perhaps?”

Chris chuckled as Wesker rudely flicked him off, who, of course, had every reason to be volatile at Chris's optimism.

*****

As Chris started routinely prompting Wesker to start moving more once the therapy sessions were completed. Even though it caused the blonde immense pain, the perseverance started paying off. The flexibility of the severely damaged hip slowly increased.

Wesker had also taken to intentionally making sure his skin was covered by wearing long-sleeved shirts, thick loose sweatpants, and thick socks just to try and put a barrier between touch, and not just Chris’s, even the nurses. This being the much-needed barrier he needed to deflect the feel of hands touching him.

*****

After several days of this independent stretching, which boosted Wesker’s confidence more than the blonde would ever be willing to admit, Chris finally decided it was time for some of the more hands-on therapy, which was going to be a challenge. Wesker was adamant, but Chris knew that the blonde needed more than what he could do with one hand.

Keeping as neutral as possible, Chris sighed as he helped get Wesker situated for the now routine therapy, “Alright Albert, we are going to try something new today.”

Wesker froze his movements, eyes glaring in slight trepidation, “Are we now.” Chris shifted towards Wesker’s right side, “Yes, Albert. You’re doing great, but you need more advanced stretching to get your muscles where they need to be.” Wesker folded his arms and scoffed, closing himself up despite knowing he needed this. Chris had to smile. He enjoyed when Wesker made his puss face, who was making said face now, knowing full well Chris was right, “You want to walk, right?”

Wesker eyed him with contempt, “Let’s just get this over with.” Chris had to chuckle at the prompt, “We haven’t even started!” Chris knew Wesker was nervous but let Chris maneuver him onto his left side. Chris gently placed one hand on the damaged hip and situated a pillow between Wesker’s thighs and lower back, causing quiet hisses and slight intakes of breath but no verbal complaints. Pain caused the blonde to pinch his brows together. Looking over his shoulder at the brunette, Wesker had to make sure, “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

Chris gently started moving Wesker’s right leg, which already trembled from the strain of the new movements. Trying to keep Wesker occupied, Chris tried to keep the blonde focused on his voice, “I didn’t just sit and stare at your unconscious face for two weeks. I took a crash course because I knew you’d be like this, and you would not let anyone get close to you.”

Wesker’s unimpressed drawl accepted his reality as he shifted his left arm to cradle his head to keep eyes on Chris, “Charmed.”

Before doing anything further, and being as considerate as he possibly could, Chris quietly asked, “Do you want me to tell you everything I do before I do it?” Wesker looked surprised up at the brunette at the actual sincerity that was laced in the question, and he had to debate if that would even make his nerves any better. Swallowing nervously, Wesker relented, “Just… Just whenever you first initiate contact should suffice. I don’t need a narrative.”

Chris nodded as Wesker kept vigilant eyes on the brunette as he started explaining what they were going to work on that day. Which expectantly made Wesker less resistant to having someone else move his body for him. After small movements and slow sets with long rests in between, Wesker was sweating and making small grunts at the pained movements, sucking in a breath whenever Chris would coerce the leg to rise higher than the previous set.

Finally, after an hour of the long, tedious work, Chris declared them done for the day, to which Wesker sighed, closing his eyes in relief. Chris was curious how well he did with just the crash course and some hands-on training. He wanted to make sure he was helping and not hindering Wesker's progress. Trying to keep his excitement in check, “So, how was it? How do you feel?”

Wesker had basically melted into his bed once Chris declared the session over, eyes closed, and breaths steady. He was exhausted, and his body shook slightly, but he could not deny the pain was not as intense as he imagined, and he was impressed with the increase of motion that Chris was able to push him towards in just this one session alone.

Mumbling in exhaustion and not even opening his eyes, Wesker responded finally, “It wasn’t… terrible.” Even to the blonde’s surprise, Chris’s instruction did not seem to bother him as much as he thought it would. Chris was gentle yet strong to keep his leg in position whenever Wesker’s strength gave out, letting him rest before trying again. Chris also talked about nonsense to try and keep Wesker slightly distracted, which as annoying as the brunette was, it worked and made the time fly by.

Chris watched as Wesker relaxed more so, and eventually, his breathing evened out. Chris silently made his way around the bed to his chair and sat, silently observing the blonde’s face. Wesker was obviously exhausted, having fallen asleep with nigh an argument.

With a slight smile, Chris felt relief that Wesker was more relaxed with him than the blonde would admit, making therapy and the healing process less stressful. He had really missed Wesker despite this being a whole new dynamic and hoped, maybe, they could be at least friends again.

Wesker had been incredibly volatile in the first few days while still demanding Chris to do everything he couldn’t do for himself, which was pretty much everything. Despite the tragedy of events up until this point, Chris was still glad to be a part of Wesker’s recovery for as long as the blonde would have him.

*****

An unspoken agreeance of sorts was forged. Wesker did not mind Chris touching him for the sake and purposes of therapy and routine assistance of moving about, and Chris did not touch the blonde unless requested outside of that agreement.

That is until the nightmares and flashbacks started…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking a small break from the usual smut and blood and guts. This continues into Nightmare I and II. I also have 3 more nightmare chapters with basic notes started, so those will be written at some point.
> 
> I will be focusing on sacrifice 3 next… so much juicy angst!


	11. Would you…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris surprises Wesker in every sense of the word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll just write what I want. This was too cute not to share. Occurs after Chris and Wesker arrive in DC in chapter 9/10.

Chris and Wesker had settled well into the DC area and established their respective busy work routines.

Finally, after a few long grueling weeks, Chris wanted to surprise Wesker and decided to take the blonde out to a nice fancy restaurant. Not having much time to spend together other than mornings and evenings when their lives overlapped in the same space and an occasional day off together, Wesker agreed with a smile. Wesker knew it was really a date and not just a nice dinner, but he didn’t mind in the least bit.

The meal was indeed incredible, and Wesker wondered where Chris had found the small location. Perhaps one of the trainees or maybe even Jill. However, Chris was not quite done with their evening after they left the restaurant, and trying to be as sneaky as he could, he waited until Wesker said something about them traveling in the wrong direction, “Sometimes I question your orienteering skills.”

Chris snickered, taking a quick glance at the blonde sitting next to him, a red-eye glaring at the corner of the dark shades. Chris laughed, “I have a surprise for you that I think you might enjoy. Change it up a bit. We can’t spend every day off screwing and lazing around. I gotta keep you on your toes, Albert. Romance you a bit. Keep you interested.”

Wesker turned his head fully toward Chris, who kept his eyes on the road the best he could. With as straight a face as he could muster, Wesker silkily responded, “But I enjoy screwing and lazing around with you on our days off.” After a few moments, Wesker finally broke from the calculating stare and laughed heartily, “Romance me? Do you think I need romancing? I'm not going anywhere, you know that.”

Chris snuck a look over to see the blonde truly smiling for once, and the brunette couldn’t help but bite his lip in excitement. Those smiles were indeed rare, and Chris didn’t want to miss it. They kept driving in silence after that until Wesker realized where they were headed, “The park is closed, you know?”

Chris chuckled, “I know.” Chris continued driving and entered one of the service roads into Great Falls National Park and made their way to the closest overlook to the waterfalls. Not really caring that he was parking illegally, Chris wanted to make sure he was parked as close to the best overlook as to reduce the distance Wesker had to walk. Despite it being spring causing less discomfort on the blonde’s injury, Chris did not want them to push their luck, despite the full moon's bright light.

Chris turned towards Wesker, “Shall we?” Smiling back at the grinning brunette, Wesker tilted his head towards Chris, “How did you manage this one, Chris?” Chris leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss on the proffered mouth. Grinning even more so, “Oh, I know a few people. Shall we?”

Wesker just hummed and made his way out of the car, Chris quickly exiting his side to help Wesker if he required it. Slowly making their way along the path towards the lookout, Wesker could only feel the immense surge of emotion at the surprise. Chris had made sure to time it right so they had the moonlight to walk by, not wanting Wesker to trip on any of the rocks as they made their way along.

Suddenly, Wesker felt warm fingers entangle with his own. Looking over at the brunette, Wesker drawled, “I guess this kind of romancing isn’t so bad. I didn’t even know there were falls in the area. It’s a nice surprise.”

Chris didn’t say anything but Wesker could feel the bounce in the younger man’s steps as they walked hand in hand. Making their way to the guardrail, they both enjoyed the sound of the crashing water and the way the moonlight made the view have almost an ethereal glow. Wesker couldn’t help but admire the view breathing in the moist air, “It’s beautiful, Chris. Thank you for bringing me here.”

They stood shoulder to shoulder for several minutes, enjoying having the location all to themselves. Chris suddenly noticed something and brought an arm up to try and point it out to Wesker, “Do you see it?” Wesker tried to follow the direction of the pointing finger but did not see anything quite of interest, “What am I looking for?” Chris leaned back to shuffle behind Wesker, moving the other to step over to where Chris had been standing, “There, straight ahead, do you see it?”

Wesker kept squinting his eyes and finally pulled the sunglasses from his nose to search for whatever this elusive thing was that Chris saw. Still not finding it, Wesker chastised Chris for pointing at nothing, “I have no clue what you want me to see, nothing is there.” Wesker no longer felt the younger man against his back and turned to see where the brunette had wandered off to, only to freeze, back rigid, hand clutching the handle of his cane with brute force. The black shades slipped from his fingers to clatter against the ground.

Chris was on one knee behind him, a small jewelry box in his hand with two simple silver wristbands in it. Inscriptions were barely visible in the moonlight. Wesker felt all the blood drain from his face at the sight of the dual set of immaculately made bands, a million thoughts rushing through his brain all at once, crashing and overlapping with each other.

Chris was smiling sheepishly despite Wesker’s frozen expression. Chris had wanted to do this for some time now and if he did not belt out what he wanted to say at this moment, while he had the blonde’s attention captured, he never would, “I know I tossed this out once before jokingly, but after actually thinking about it, this felt more and more right. Albert, would you…” Chris swallowed and licked his suddenly dry lips, “Would you spend the rest of your life with me?”

Chris felt asking Wesker to marry him would be to cliché and that Wesker would likely scoff at the idea as he had once before upon first arriving in DC. But dedicating their lives to each other sounded more in the blonde’s lane and did not necessarily mean they had to be married unless they came to that agreement mutually. That is if Wesker accepted the proposal.

Wesker was standing ramrod straight, still looking wide-eyed and panicked at the kneeling brunette.

Chris’s smile started to fade the longer the silence crept between them. Chris could hear Wesker’s breaths slightly increase as the silence rang through the night, minus the nighttime symphony of critters surrounding them and, of course, the cascade of the water crashing over the falls. Chris’s face became pinched with concern, “Albert, are you alright? Please say something.”

At those words, the spell that had kept Wesker immobile broke, and the blonde was blinking rapidly, thick tears bubbled over his cheeks as his breath caught, “I… I don’t deserve this.” Wesker’s face crumpled as he brought the heel of one hand up to try and wipe away the torrent of tears pouring down his face, whispering, “I’m so completely and utterly broken, Christopher. I don’t... I don't deserve you.”

Chris was instantly standing, the box closed and quickly pocketed so Chris could wrap his arms around the shaking blubber mess that had just been smiling moments before, wiping away the crocodile tears and shushing the uncontrolled sobs. “Albert, we have talked about this. You’re not broken, you’re healing. And if I didn’t want you, I would not be here with you.” Shifting closer, Chris encompassed Wesker with his arms tighter, “I want to be here, with you. I want to be with you forever.”

Wesker sobbed louder and clenched his fingers into Chris's dress shirt, unable to look into the hazel eyes, and gazed dazedly at the fifth button down on the light blue material. “I.. I don’—” Chris grabbed the sides of Wesker’s head tenderly to bring the other’s face towards his, “Look at me, Albert.” The softly spoken demand caused the glazed red eyes to shift up. Chris murmured, “We have been through so much together, and here we are after everything that has happened. Nothing would tear me away from you except death itself. Albert, I love you and want to spend my life with you as long as you will have me.”

Wesker just stared in shock at these words, almost uncomprehending of what Chris was saying. He stood, shaking against the younger man who was partially supporting him, the rest of his weight leaned heavily against his cane. “I…” Wesker’s eyes flicked between the softness in the younger man’s face, and then it dawned on the blonde what Chris had actually said. A small smile formed despite tears still falling, and Wesker could finally say the one thing he had feared saying the last few months, maybe even years, “I… I love you too.”

The declaration caused more tears, which Chris gently wiped away, bringing Wesker’s face forward and kissing each eyelid and then pressed their foreheads together. Chris maintained his gracious smile, despite Wesker’s obvious distress, “You don’t have to answer right now, Albert, but please think about it. Take all the time you—"

“YES!”

The abrupt shout startled Chris to lean back slightly. Wesker’s eyes were clenched shut, his head bowed forward slightly, but the blazing eyes were wrenched open as Wesker jerked his head back up to gaze into Chris’s eyes, urgently whispering, “Yes… a million times yes!” Chris’s smile turned into a toothy grin, and he pulled Wesker closer to him, encompassing the blonde in a tight bear hug and crushing their lips together passionately.

Leaning back slightly, the tears lessening, Wesker could not help himself, “What do they say?”

.....

“What does what say?”

Wesker bolted upright in bed, staring wide-eyed at the sudden change in scenery and not understanding what was happening, “What?!” Chris was partially dressed in his tactical gear standing in Wesker’s bedroom doorway, arms up against the doorframe. However, Wesker could not make heads from tails if Chris was coming or going.

“What?” Wesker repeated, his face tightened in confusion, not quite sure what was real and what was a dream. Chris stepped into the room and sat down next to the confused blonde, pressing a hand to the other’s forehead, “You aren’t feverish. Bad dream?”

Wesker stared melancholy up at Chris, “No.” Reaching out, he gripped the brunette’s bicep. “No, it was… it was a nice dream.”

Wesker could not help but feel devastated that the dream wasn’t real. Despite yelling at Chris that the topic of marriage was moot, Wesker actually wished the dream was reality. That he truly did want to spend his life with the younger man, but it was not something that had come up for discussion since Chris teased the notion of being newlyweds, and an overwhelming feeling of loss wafted over the blonde. They haven’t even said the L-word to each other.

Chris did not look convinced, who had taken to rubbing a hand over Wesker’s bare back. Leaning forward, Chris kissed Wesker in the hopes he could tell the blonde how concerned he was, “You don’t look too happy if it was a nice dream.” Wesker was silent, wearily gazing at the brunette. After several silent moments passed, Chris rose to make his way back to getting his gear ready.

Reality settled in as Wesker stared after the brunette’s retreating back. As he scrubbed at his face, he remembered that Chris was going on a short mission for a few days for a training exercise. Thankfully, nothing life-threatening, but the distraught emotions of the dream not being real made Chris's departure seem like the younger man was leaving him. An empty hollow feeling settled into the blonde's chest.

Sighing and dropping his head into his hands to hide the sudden torrent of salty liquid the blonde could not stop from developing, Wesker despairingly mumbled, “No, it was nice. Pleasantly wonderful, in fact. Something that may someday come to pass.”

Chris stared at Wesker’s huddled form from the shared living space and frowned, “Will you tell me about it?” He knew something was up and Wesker was obviously extremely bothered by the dream, whatever it was about. Chris was certainly unsure if he believed the dream was good or not based on Wesker’s huddled form, shoulders shaking, and attempted silent huffing breaths.

Chris sighed and returned to Wesker’s side, where he sat on the bed again and pulled the blonde into his arms, slowly rocking the older man until he stopped shaking and was able to take deep breaths.

Wesker’s muffled voice wafted up from where his face was pressed against Chris’s solid chest, “Thank you, Christopher.” Wesker took a shuddering breath, “Maybe I will tell you another time.”

Chris held the blonde tighter, “Alright. I’ll hold you to that, Albert.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could make maple syrup out of this chapter. I wanted to name this Hitched but figured it would give too much away.
> 
> I’m sorry for dealing so many crushing blows to these two, but who knows, maybe the married topic will pop up again at some point later on.


	12. Grooming Standards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris’s compassion continues to throw Wesker off guard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can follow Therapy Beginnings.

“What are you doing?” Wesker was irritated and sore from his morning stretching as he listened to Chris shuffle around loudly and clunking unknown items about in his bathroom. “Getting stuff” was Chris’s only indicator of his mystery actions. Huffing, Wesker just wanted some peace to himself to relax and probably take a catnap as he was exhausted.

Usually, Chris took off after assisting Wesker through the stretching routine, and in his efforts to try and get Chris out of his hair in a bored tone Wesker humored the empty response, “What kind of ‘stuff’?”

Finally, stepping out from the doorway, Chris held a bowl of steaming hot water, which caused Wesker to tense up immediately. Chris frowned deeply, expression deadpanned as he tried incredibly hard not to roll his eyes, wondering when the hell Wesker was finally going to trust him. Pouting, Chris responded to the obvious stiffening of the blonde’s body, “Geezus Albert, I’m not going to throw hot water on you.”

Not quite convinced, eyes not leaving the steaming bowl, Wesker countered, “Then what **do** you plan on using it for?” Chris sighed as he stepped towards the blonde, placing the bowl on one of the rolling tables and pulling it up next to the blonde’s bed, “Certainly not throwing it at you, that’s for sure. Unless you think you’ll melt, might provide an entertaining afternoon.” Wesker scoffed at the cheap shot and eyed the bowl wearily. He was in no mood for a birdbath if that was Chris’s intention.

Returning to the bathroom, Chris came back with an array of items and a fluffy towel. Wesker was now wearily silent as he watched Chris lay out items next to the bowl of hot water. In a surprisingly neat row were shaving cream, a razor, a small hand towel, and aftershave.

Chris stared at Wesker, who inspected the items and shifted eyes between them and Chris, the silence pregnant, and after several moments Chris grabbed the expensive brand of shaving cream and reached for Wesker’s face, who immediately slapped the hand away, almost knocking the container from the brunette’s hand. In a frustrated huff, Wesker scowled, “I can do it myself! I’m not a perpetual child!” Chris just raised his eyebrows and smirked, trying his damndest not to ask if Wesker was sure.

They both knew it was a poor show of bravado as Chris handed the can of shaving cream over to Wesker, who plunked the can into his barely usable left hand and somewhat managing to cover his face with the cream. The dexterity needed to press the nozzle down barely manageable, and Wesker’s scowl deepened as he ended up making more of a mess than he would ever admit.

Chris stood next to the bed, arms crossed, watching closely as Wesker grabbed the razor, and Chris moved a small mirror close enough to where Wesker could see what he was doing. Except the hand holding the razor was shaking, and the fine motor skills required for such a delicate task still elusive to the healing body. Wesker had barely been able to clean a quarter of one scruffy cheek without nicking his skin.

Wesker stared frustratingly in the mirror as he paused his movements, hand still shaking as he held the razor in the bowl of water, the cream dissipating into swirling clouds. Quietly fuming, Wesker snapped his eyes up to indignantly stare at Chris, who tried his best to keep a straight face, not wanting to provoke the older man.

Wesker handed Chris the razor, who took it gently. Chris moved the table slightly but still within reach to sit at the edge of the bed close to Wesker’s hip, though not quite touching, trying not to be too overbearing. Wesker hissed as Chris gently angled the blonde’s jaw towards him, “Bastard.” Chris ignored the barb and could not help but smirk, “You look like Shaggy.” The comparison made the blonde scowl even deeper, grunting deep in his throat.

Wesker was silent as Chris started shaving the gruff hairs, gently maneuvering the older man’s face side to side to capture all the stubble. Wesker switched between glaring at the brunette dead in the face or at the surprisingly gentle hands that deftly maneuvered the razor across his skin.

After several moments of deep observation, Wesker could not help his curiosity, “You’re surprisingly very good at this.”

Chris continued on, almost finished, “I did this a few times for you while you were unconscious. It was unnerving seeing you look so scroungy.” Wesker’s eyes widened, sucking in a silent breath, unsure of how to process this information. Chris was unfazed by the reaction and continued on.

It was then that Wesker truly noticed that indeed the items Chris had brought were familiar, whispering in fascination at this realization, “You remember.” Wesker looked uneasily back at Chris, who was finishing up, wiping excess shaving cream away from the blonde’s face with the small hand towel. Their eyes met then, Chris's eyes slightly pained, “Of course I remember. How could I forget?”

Wesker’s faced pinched in slight skepticism as the brunette's words processed, “You shaved me while I was unconscious?!” Wesker was now truly unnerved, uncertain how to handle this information. Chris keeping a solemn expression, “It was hard enough watching you lay there, not knowing if you would ever wake up. I couldn’t stand to see… Never mind. It’s not important.”

Chris rose to start cleaning up, leaving the aftershave on the table for Wesker to use at his leisure. Wesker reached a shaking hand out to fist in Chris’s shirt, a seething hiss escaped his lips, eyes sharp and glowing in frustration, “It **IS** important! Why?” Wesker truly didn’t know how to process Chris’s actions.

Turning, Chris gently smiled down at the questioning blonde, “I couldn’t bear see you more out of your element than you already were, and I remember you always hated looking grungy.”

Wesker's mouth gaped but was silent, his fingers losing their grip on the material of Chris's shirt. It suddenly dawned on Wesker that when he had first awoken, there had been no irritation of scruff or stubble. Chris must have shaved him earlier that day or the night prior.

Chris stepped away with the bowl of now lukewarm milky water, Wesker staring after him, flabbergasted. Memories that were so long forgotten in the never-ending blinding rage that embraced his mind after his rebirth, scribbling over the several mornings he had shared space with Chris as they got ready for work. Showering, shaving, teeth brushing, coffee drinking, and the occasional quickie.

Though there had been no outwardly sexual overtones to Chris’s ministrations, Wesker could not help but characterize the actions as a truly intimate act. An unspoken trust as gentle hands tilted his head to and frow to shave his skin. Wesker was left speechless. Not sure to be angry, irritated, or grateful, Wesker settled on silent acceptance as Chris cleaned up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember seeing this done for a dying relative in the hospital when I was in my early teens. Though the memory is fuzzy, it has always struck me how intense an act of kindness this was even at such a young age.


	13. The Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris comes home from cold-weather training to find Wesker not taking to the weather all that well. Chris decides to dolt on his lover, trying to soothe the hurt away.
> 
> Warnings: fluff, comfort, slight angst, depression, prescription drugs, past grievous injury, bathing, anal fingering, anal sex, explicit sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought of this the past few days and just had to write it out. Just so lovingly sweet and sensual. It has been a long while since I’ve written sappy fluff.
> 
> Kinda takes place within chapter 9. Someday I will fix all the kinks in my timeline.

Wesker was certainly feeling the harsh winter weather and found himself sitting in the deep bath in his bathroom. The water roasting him almost instantly as he slowly lowered himself into the steaming water. The heat leaving him in an almost trance-like state, reminiscing of past has-beens. His body was aching severely. Not even able to hide his limp behind his cane with the brutal cold that he could hear whistling in through the cracks of the residence he shared with Chris.

Chris was supposed to be coming back today from some cold weather training. Wesker had greatly missed the younger man’s presence, who always knew how to soothe his aching muscles and bones. Chris could also quiet his wandering mind when he had difficulty making his way around with his brisk humor. Wesker even called out from work as he just did not want to bother dealing with other people asking if he was alright with how profound the damage impeded normal movement. Normally, he was able to mask the limp but not this day.

So, he lounged in his bed for as long as he could stand before the throbbing pain was unbearable, and he rolled out of the warm covers in search of some of his stronger painkillers. Not normally needing them anymore, but the severity of the aches was getting to him. He took one extra just to take the edge off, already used to the normal dosage, and in hopes of not falling into a flashback.

Sighing as he laid back after submerging himself for several moments, staring up at the white popcorn ceiling. He had always hated popcorn ceilings. It always made him think that whoever designed whatever room it was used in was just lazy, not wanting to make sure the ceiling was smoothed out. It covered all the imperfections of the ceiling. Hiding any damage underneath.

Wesker frown, slowly rolling his gaze towards his cane that was next to the tub. It was just another popcorn ceiling. A crutch for him to hide his damaged body behind. Fooling those around him that he was strong but in actuality felt so incredibly weak. Especially compared to how he used to be before the attack on his person.

Spiraling downward into a deeper and deeper depression, Wesker did not hear the front door opening, nor the heavy thud of gear being dropped, or his name being called until a frightened Chris skirted through the bathroom door, startling him so that he sloshed a fair amount of water over the side of the tub, not able to stop the sound of surprise from escaping his lips or the bodily flinch as the bathroom door struck the opposite wall.

Chris’s fear resided minutely, eyes wide taking a deep breath of relief, “Oh thank God! You’re alright.” Glazed eyes stared at the wide hazel with a distantly dazed look, Wesker had not yet verbally responded to Chris’s evident fear. Chris’s brow furrowed as he stepped closer to examine Wesker’s face, noticing how dilated the deep red eyes were, “How much did you take?” It took several moments for Wesker to process what was being asked before finally responding slowly, lowering his gaze back to the water, “Enough.”

Wesker’s face scrunched up slightly, brows furrowed, as he turned back towards Chris’s relieved expression, shifting one arm from the rim of the tub where he had a death grip to reach out towards the younger man, “You’re home.” Dropping to his knees next to the tub, not caring his pants were now soaked, Chris grabbed the hand, which felt cold, and he pressed his lips to the prune-wrinkled skin, “I’m home.”

.....

Chris was so relieved to be home from the ridiculous cold-weather exercise. He always hated leaving Wesker during bad weather, and he had been gone for a few days. When he stepped into the apartment, it was quiet. Too quiet. He knew Wesker was home, as his vehicle was still in the lot, and there was no way the older man would have walked into work, nor would he have asked for a ride.

No lights were on, and that worried him. Wesker usually was an early riser and would have at least been lounging around, but it didn’t seem like Wesker had attempted to even eat, much less leave his room. Chris called out for Wesker, wondering if the blonde was even awake. Chris shuffled towards Wesker’s room and popped his head in the doorway. The bed had been occupied but was now a haphazard empty mess.

That left either bathroom. Still silent, but he did see light from under Wesker’s bathroom door. For some unidentified reason, Chris panicked, thinking Wesker had finally sunk so low while he was gone that he would hurt himself. Or worse. Bursting through the bathroom door, Chris stood in shock, expecting a bloodbath, “Albert!” Calming slightly, Chris sighed, ‘Albert was fine. And breathing.’

Taking more of his lover in, Chris noticed the slightly glazed look. Wesker must have been in incredible pain to resort to taking medication. He also noticed the snake-headed cane was next to the tub. Meaning Wesker had needed it to physically get in. This was not a good sign. Capturing the red eyes again, Chris finally noticed the dilated pupils, “How much did you take?”

Chris saw no change in Wesker’s expression as he responded with ‘enough’ and then the indifferent expression broke, visage crumbling in pain, a hand reaching out for him, and he took it immediately. He hated leaving Wesker for so long. Never knowing what dark path the older man’s mind might take him on or if any nightmares or flashbacks would plague him. Fearing he would come home one day to find that Wesker couldn’t take it anymore.

Today was not that day, thankfully. Chris kissed the cold, wrinkled knuckles and immediately stuck his other hand in the water. It was freezing. Without a word, Chris pulled the plug, letting the cold water drain. Wesker seemed unconcerned, just stared mesmerized, watching the water flow down the drain, creating a small whirlpool. As the tub almost completely emptied, Chris plugged it again and turned on the hot water.

Looking over the reclined body, shaking slightly from no longer being encased in water, “How long have you been in here, Albert?” Wesker had been staring at the hot water splashing about his feet, refilling the tub. At the prompt, slunk tired eyes back to Chris’s, brows furrowed in unspoken discomfort before closing them, leaning lower into the renewed hot water, “I’m… I’m not sure. I just… I’ve… It… Everything hurts. It just seems… never-ending these days.”

Chris could tell Wesker was more depressed than he had been in a long time. Frustrated with his body, worry lines creasing his face, making him look older and more fatigued. Chris being absent certainly did not help. Chris leaned forward, lightly kissing Wesker’s forehead, causing the tired eyes to snap open again as an arm stretched across his vision to grab shampoo. Dabbing some into his palms, Chris proceeded to wash the older man’s hair, massaging his scalp gently, taking his time. Wesker had immediately closed his eyes and hummed as Chris’s finger slid through his hair.

Chris took his time, waiting to see Wesker relax some before rinsing the soap out of the longish hair. It had been some time since Wesker had been to the stylist, and it had started growing out. Though Chris didn’t mind, he loved playing with the golden strands whenever it wasn’t covered in a sticky brick of hair product, keeping it in place.

Chris reached for the conditioner and proceeded to give the scalp the same attention, if not more so. Wesker still had his eyes closed, a small smile letting Chris know his actions were appreciated. Washing out the conditioner, Chris quietly asked if Wesker wanted him to scrub his back. Wesker was quiet a moment and then opened his eyes to stare at his hands that had become even more pruney.

Though still lines of worry were etched around his eyes, he looked slightly more relaxed than when Chris had first barged into the bathroom, “Hmm, thank you, Dearheart, but… no… I should get out. I’ve been in here too long.” Chris chuckled as he rose. Stiff from kneeling next to the tub so long, he grabbed one of Wesker’s large towels and set it aside as he bent over to pull the plug again, letting the water drain completely this time.

Silently, Chris held his hand low for Wesker to grab so he could stand, knowing full well a hot bath would only soothe so much. Wesker stared graciously as he took the proffered appendage, and gripping the side of the tub, slowly made his way to his feet. Chris’s other hand immediately supporting from under the pale bicep.

Wesker sucked in air between clenched teeth, eyes squinted, but refused to make a sound as Chris helped him step out of the tub towards the chair to sit after wrapping the towel around the shaking shoulders. Chris retrieved Wesker’s cane and deposited it next to the chair, so when Wesker decided he was done sitting, he could move about mostly unimpeded. Chris also grabbed Wesker’s royal blue bathrobe and set it within reach.

It was all routine, having settled into a systematic duo of actions since they had started living together. It was mostly Chris assisting Wesker, but on occasion, when the blonde was able, he would do whatever he could for the younger man.

Clothes started dropping as Chris made for the standing shower, “I need to rinse off. I’ve been running around the last few days with no real bathrooms, much less hot water. Then I can get you back in bed, maybe a nice massage on that troublesome hip.” Wesker said nothing but shuffled slightly to start drying his hair, looking after the naked rear of his lover before it disappeared behind frosty glass.

Wesker sighed in frustration. Reminiscing of the old days when he was strong and would have Chris squealing under him by now, not even caring if they had been a sweaty mess beforehand. Watching as Chris showered, he felt the slow stirrings of lust curl in his belly. He had missed Chris the few days the younger man had been gone, and though Wesker could now barely keep up with Chris’s libido, after the younger man had been absent, Wesker was looking forward to reacquainting their bodies once more.

Letting the towel drop, he wrapped his robe around him and replaced the towel around his neck. With great effort and a death grip on his cane, Wesker rose on shaky legs, immediately hissing as he felt the cold sink right back in.

“You alright, Albert?” The question had almost caught Wesker off guard as he turned towards the shower, sucking in another breath, as he could barely make out the face on the other side of the glass. “I’m... just going to sit in the other room.”

Chris hummed, “I’ll be out shortly, just wanted to get the grime off before doting on you.”

Wesker’s brows furrowed, suddenly feeling like a burden. Chris had just arrived home and had barely had a moment to himself, having immediately taken care of Wesker’s dazed state sitting in a tub of cold water, “You just got home. **You** should relax.”

The shower shut off, and Chris stepped out, smirking like a fool, water dripping everywhere as he went searching for another towel, “Albert… Doting on you **is** relaxing.” Wesker’s deadpanned expression was answer enough that he was not convinced, “I beg to differ with the amount of complaining you do sometimes.”

Chris chuckled as he dried his hair quickly and wrapped the towel around his waist. Wesker, of course, noticed the semi-erect cock bulging slightly from the towel and stared several moments, eyes glittering before snapping them up to meet Chris’s eyes. Chris chuckled, a knowing smirk and eyes filled with mirth, “Maybe… Let me help you with that hip first. Go sit. I can see you slumping already.”

Wesker frowned, huffing but did not say anything as he slowly swiveled towards his bed, using the doorframe to assist in keeping his body moving. Grumbling, he made a controlled fall onto the side of the bed, a hand running over his aching hip, lips peeled back in a grimace.

Chris followed shortly after and sat behind Wesker and started to comb back his hair, undoing any tangles gently, using his fingers to smooth out the thin strands. Wesker purred, leaning back into the hands despite his aching bones. Sometimes he wished they had never used metal to piece him back together, surely the cause of such a deep ache within his body.

Wesker didn’t realize Chris had stopped until lips were pressed to the nape of his neck, and he leaned back further against the warm body behind him, sighing. Chris continued to press small kisses along Wesker's neck, pulling him against him and shuffling them more into the middle of the bed. Situating Wesker on his left side, he slid one hand over Wesker’s upturned shoulder, parting the dark robe, sliding it over the pale skin to splay his fingers over the defined collarbone, which he followed with more soft kisses. A small breathless whine escaped Wesker as he pressed further into Chris’s solid frame, feeling Chris’s excitement brush against his rear. The gentle ministrations were more than distracting.

The hand parted the robe to slide down Wesker’s chest, grasping and rolling his palm over Wesker’s nipples until the fingers slowly crawled over a tensed rippling abdomen, gliding back the robe’s opening until the hand met the swell of the accursed hip. Chris had continued the ministration of his mouth along the exposed shoulder, his breaths heavier as he felt Wesker shutter the further south his hand traveled.

However, Chris’s goal was to loosen the tightened and strained hip muscles, and though he felt Wesker tremble, breaths almost to the point of panting, his hand started the familiar motions over the damaged hip and surrounding muscles. As much as he desired to lay claim to his lover, Chris was unsure if it would be a good idea with the amount of pain Wesker was obviously in. He continued to press his fingers harder into the tightened muscles, ripping an unexpected throaty groan from Wesker, who tossed his head back, trying to catch Chris’s gaze that hovered over him, “Please…”

He knew where this would lead, and Chris pressed his face into Wesker’s damp hair, staring down at the pained glassy eyes, “Please what, Albert?” Wesker’s eyes snapped to the opposite corner of the room, swallowing thickly, he would not resort to begging, not yet anyway. The second Chris’s fingers had glided over his skin, the heat of those skilled digits caused immediate arousal to jet straight down to his cock. The further Chris’s fingers traveled, the more excited Wesker became, his body shaking in anticipation and pain.

Chris pressed further against Wesker’s body as he slid practiced fingers over the muscles of the older man’s lower back, cognizant of the sensitive skin there, while also penetrating to the weakened muscle beneath, ripping another groan from Wesker. Chris must have been unintentionally teasing Wesker a good ten minutes before the blonde head whipped an agonized gaze back at Chris’s smirking face, “Do not deny me this! Please!” It was as close Wesker would allow himself to beg for Chris to fuck him. At least for the moment. If Chris continued to deny, Wesker would take matters into his own hands, and he'd make Chris watch as he pleasured himself.

Chris sneered, sucking his teeth in as he made an exasperated sound at the slight whine behind Wesker’s words, “As you wish.” Pausing his ministrations, Chris brought his hand back up over Wesker’s abdomen, slowly smoothing over the quivering skin.

Wesker had kept eye contact, not impressed with Chris’s teasing as the younger man’s expression darkened. Wesker had pulled his lips back slightly, already traveling one of his hands down to wrap around his own erection, when it was grabbed and held tightly against his chest. Chris had quickly wrapped his other arm around Wesker’s other shoulder to grab the snaking hand, holding it steadfast. Growling, Wesker tried to reach down with his other hand, but that too was quickly caught, Chris deftly holding Wesker’s arms against the shuddering chest tightly, unable to reach his aching cock, which had become uncovered from the dark robe.

Chris stared over his captive and rumbled in appreciation how excited Wesker was, the pulsing cock already glistening at the tip, a shining drop swelling there. Wesker was not in the least bit happy and tried to shuffle his hands free but froze when Chris’s free hand started moving away from where it had been teasing the skin of his fluctuating abdomen.

The fingers sensually ran down Wesker’s right side, over the sharp hip, nimbly brushing past Wesker’s throbbing sex, wrenching a small moan from the shaking body from the brief contact. The fingers traveled further to gently caress Wesker’s inner thigh, slowly pulling the leg up to spread the pale shaking legs, angling it gently over his own upturned leg, exposing Wesker for easier prep.

Chris planned to take his time. He had already known Wesker wanted a good fucking despite the pain he was in. The lingering eyes entranced by his crotch after he finished in the shower were announcement enough. Pulling his arm behind him, he grabbed the container of lube he so pretentiously placed within reach and set it into one of Wesker’s confined hands. Chris popped the top, and silently Wesker squeezed an ample amount onto Chris’s waiting fingers.

Wesker dropped the bottle, unable to do more than that with his arms confined in the tight hold. He tried to press himself back further against Chris but was, for the most part, immobilized. He was at Chris’s mercy. Now panting, Wesker lay his head back to catch Chris’s sharp gaze, waiting for that first meticulous finger to breach him. Chris smirked and pressed against the quivering muscle, circling it, drawing a slighted breath from Wesker as his body shifted from the slight cold of the lubricant.

Chris was going to drag this out as long as he could. He wanted Wesker to beg for it. Distract him. Chris slowly submerged one finger, pressing gently along the inside of Wesker’s tightened channel, ripping a deeper groan as Wesker’s inner thigh started shaking. The leg stretched up over Chris’s trembled, but Chris did not let up and kept slowly fingering the tight hole, teasing it for as long as he could until Wesker cried out louder as the finger skirted his prostate.

Chris allowed a second finger to join the first, awarding the body with the same slow, agonizing treatment as the first, running along Wesker’s inner walls sensually. Wesker’s breaths came in quick pants, his body squirming from the prolonged treatment. Wesker dared not say a thing, least he beg, but he did keep eye contact with Chris, whose breaths had also increased as he gently prepared the clenching channel to receive his thick cock.

Wesker never minded some roughness during intimacy after his injuries, but it had been a very, very long time since Chris had gone this slow. The anticipation was brutal, and finally, Wesker whined gutturally, leaning back, arching his body, his throat flexing as the sound was ripped from him. Chris leaned down to mouth the slightly sweat-sheened skin of Wesker’s neck and jaw, obviously affected by Chris’s incessantly slow attention.

At the sound, Chris entered a third finger, stretching as slow as he could manage and brushing up against Wesker prostate, causing the older man to tense and arch further against the hold his arms were still clenched in, ripping another brutal sound, the pale skin flushing almost red at the strain. Chris plunged his fingers in and out at an agonizing pace as Wesker’s body almost violently jerked, his chest heaving.

Wesker’s eyes were clenched shut as his body strained for more, unable to take the slow probing fingers, whispering hoarsely as he whipped his head against Chris’s shoulder, “Pplease… fuck! Ah, fuck! Please… Please fuck me… Chris… I can’t—!”

Chris removed his fingers excruciatingly slow, splaying them as wide as he could against the muscle, grazing the clenching inner walls before exiting the dripping hole with an obscene squelch, ripping another intense sound from Wesker’s throat. Chris shooshed the lumbering of begging words, assuring Wesker he would not abandon what he started.

Shifting forward, Chris rolled Wesker’s body with his, angling him further on his left side. Unwrapping the towel he still had around his waist, Chris grabbed the still open bottle of lube and squirted some on his cock, hissing at the slight cold. Satisfied with the amount, he dropped the container. Chris made sure he was amply covered and gently pressed the dripping head against the well-stretched hole.

If Wesker thought Chris’s fingers were slow, he was in for a surprise as the hard cock was pressed forward at a snail’s pace. Brows deeply furrowed, taking gasping whines, Wesker’s blazing eyes shot open, glaring accusatorily at Chris’s sweating face that was grinning like a hyena. Wesker moaned loudly as the thick head finally entered him, and he made to shift back to bury the throbbing cock quicker, but Chris wouldn’t allow it.

No longer needing to hold his cock in place, Chris swiftly wrapped his free arm under the leg that had been angled over his own and pressed it towards Wesker's front, gripped over the already confined hands, and effectively trapping the leg against Wesker’s chest. The entrapment was the denial of the last opportunity Wesker had to increase the pace, and now he was completely at Chris’s mercy. The deliberately gentle claiming ripped an agonized cry as Chris continued his slow controlled descent into the rippling depths of his lover.

Wesker tried to struggle to gain some sort of traction, but Chris held him firmly, and what felt like several minutes later, the hard cock had fully claimed him, and a guttural sound echoed in the quiet residence. Chris was breathing hard as he held himself still, relishing in how much of a complete mess he had already made of Wesker, who was sweating and flushed furiously. Chris gleamed excitedly at how much precum had already leaked from Wesker’s cock, all the excitement taking quite a toll as the older man quivered.

Slowly and gently, Chris started to withdraw from the hugging orifice until only the tip of his cock was nestled snuggly within the clenching heat, causing a flurry of inarticulate small sounds from Wesker, who glared at him with slitted eyes that silently begged for more. Chris leaned over to kiss Wesker gently, laying claim as he started to sink back into the heated core.

Chris continued this way, making very, very slow, precision-controlled thrusts. It was not long before Wesker had become even more unhinged and was gasping, begging quietly for Chris to move faster, harder. That what he was doing was torturous and maddening, and Chris would make him go insane.

For several moments, words were uttered that Chris had never even heard before, and if he could remember, planned on asking Wesker for a translation later, curious as to what nasty things he was being called in foreign tongues as he continued his movements against the struggling frame.

Wesker’s body continued to vibrate more violently from the slow sensual claiming, the motions just as, if not more extreme than his preferred rough pounding with the brunette. The intensity of the moment and having Wesker at his mercy was affecting Chris more than he wanted to admit, and when he noticed the sparkling tears at the corners of Wesker’s eyes as he continued to beg, Chris decided he would be merciful.

Slowly Chris unclasped one hand, letting the captured leg slide down with his forearm as he trailed his fingers down Wesker’s sides, over his hip, and danced achingly slow to tickle along the leaking cock, causing a thunderous cry to wrench Wesker’s body against him, trying to scramble for any amount of purchase to no avail. Chris only allowed his fingers to ghost before pressing along the inner thigh muscles.

Wesker shrunk into himself as his body froze, eyes squinted as if in insufferable pain as he pleaded, “Touch me! Please … just fucking touch me, you fucking bastard… please… fuck!” Wesker’s teeth snapped shut near the end of his outburst, his eyes darkening to blood-red as Chris changed the angle of his cock and only slightly increasing the power behind his thrusts, deepening his penetration and ripping a whine from behind the closed jaws.

Tears ran down the sides of Wesker’s temples as he closed his eyes the moment Chris enclosed his fist around his weeping erection, fisting it to the motion of his controlled thrusts, causing higher-pitched sounds to be wrenched from Wesker, his breaths increasing rapidly from the added stimulation, bringing him ever closer to what would most certainly be an out-of-body experience. Chris finally allowed his own body to ascend towards his peak, ready to topple over the edge of the world alongside his lover, who was a blubbering drooling mess.

Wesker was right there. Right on the edge and Chris desired to jump over the cliff alongside him, who was crying out gratingly, fighting against the strong arms around him, holding his arms in place, trying to establish just a tiny amount of leverage. Chris could feel the heat start to clench around his throbbing cock, and without any further prompts, thrust harshly into Wesker, aiming for that perfect spot, and in quick succession withdrew and again plunged as deeply as he was physically able into the writhing body.

The sudden roughness immediately caused Wesker’s climax to erupt with a harsh scream as he went rigid, pressing back against Chris, who was caught up in his own mind-blowing orgasm, a snarling groan joining Wesker’s vocals as he released a thick load into the spasming channel, and feeling it slide past his still thrusting cock, splattering over his thighs as he continued to pound harder into Wesker.

Chris gripped Wesker’s cock tighter, feeling hot cum glaze over his fingers, distantly noting that Wesker likely hadn’t touched himself since he had left as he felt the thick erection spasmed, shooting several thick globs across the sheets.

Wesker was silent a moment, sucking in a breath only to continue to shudder. A long shattering moan pulled from him as Chris pounded deeper into him through their intense orgasms, thoroughly claiming as much of Wesker with his seed as possible, feeling some of it spatter hotly over his skin at the sudden deeper thrusts. Chris released his hands, which Wesker immediately jerked one downward to enclose over the hand milking his cock and clenched it tighter, causing another deep moan to escape him as he curved against Chris’s body.

Slowing, Chris released Wesker’s cock, lowering the captured quivering leg to allow the appendage to rest. Chris wrapped Wesker in a gentle embrace, still rocking against the heaving body, plunging his softening cock into the saturated hole until finally, the clenching muscles pushed him out, a satisfied sigh escaping him as he nuzzled into Wesker sweaty neck, placing a kiss over the racing pulse there.

Wesker twisted his head back, capturing the hot mouth in a searing kiss, and wrapping an arm around Chris’s head to drag him closer. Murmuring against the toothy attacks and plunging tongue, Wesker gasped out, “Fuck, you are such an asshole! Fucking cocktease! Why?!” Wesker could feel Chris smile against his overheated skin, “You're in pain, I figured why not go slow. Don’t deny it! You loved—!” Chris could not finish his sentence as he was cut off, a tight grip on his hair, “It was torture! You bastard!”

Running his lips along Wesker’s forehead, Chris leaned up over the heaving frame, his glazed eyes dragged over the blushing splayed body, hair a damp haphazard mess, the robe wrenched open from the intensity of their passionate lovemaking, exposing Wesker’s nakedness, the spent cum glistening on the pale skin and dark sheets, “You looks so fucking ravishing right now. If I hadn’t just filled your ass full of cum, I’d be fucking the daylights out of you this instant.” Pausing a second to admire his good work, Chris grinned, “Actually…” Chris didn’t finish his thought, but the obvious stroking of his softened cock spoke for itself of what his intentions were.

Wesker could not help the vicious smirk at such a bold declaration as he watched Chris speed up his efforts to achieve a second round of ass-claiming, “I love it when you talk dirty, but…” Pausing, Wesker reached up to wrap his fingers in Chris’s hair, pulling Chris down towards him, “If you do that again, I’ll make sure you are thoroughly punished later.”

Chris, all the while, despite squinting one eye at his smarting scalp, did not let up on renewing his erection. “No promises, Albert.”

Wesker loosened his hold as he chuckled, “Oh, how I have missed you, Dearheart. Such a glutton for punishment.”

Chris snickered as he reclaimed Wesker’s mouth, “Takes one to know one. And… I have missed you too, Albert.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’m still pretty new to some of these social media platforms but if anyone does care to see any specific interactions within the storyline, let me know.


End file.
